A Slow Quiet Morning Poem by nathan martin
A Slow Quiet Morning
small old house with
blackberry bushes
gathering in the backyard
squirrels climbing on a railroad
tie stuck in the ground,
sitting with folded hands
to say thier morning prayers.
the liturgies of autumn
held in broken twigs
scattered around
st ignatious in the folded
leaved piety of late febuary
and me in the kitchen
looking out the window
with a bowl full of scottish
oatmeal.
oat's and prayers
all morning long,
like adam in the garden
i busy myself naming
the animals
i might just call him
the abbot i think,
looking down into the
sink full of dirty dish's
they can wait, for later
There is lovely laziness about this poem, laid back contentment, written by a man who notices things.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 1:06:55 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I like the image of THE LITURGIES OF AUTUMN. Autumn, however brief, is my favorite season, because the activities that have to be crammed into its brief span take on a ritual quality - any day can be the last day of autumn when BAM! it's winter. I also like the reference to Adam naming the animals. IT'S A WONDERFUL STORY in which a human being puts the finishing touches on creation. I wrote a rough poem on this subject - in the last section God acknowledges by naming things Adam has created the art of poetry!