Little Foul Joy

Little Foul Joy

it wasn’t yesterday

a drolly aggrieved girl

turned to a blank page

in an overfed notebook

& scribbled a sequence

of roseate words

heart of waiting

cannot be undone

                love is an ending

in her book of small sorrows      

                sweetness still flows

little foul joy

                this poem’s accomplice

**

I was feeling a little edgy this afternoon, ants in my pants kind of edgy: and so I took the thoughts that were swirling around in my day-dreams and spun them into a poem. It's just a little something to stretch the creative muscles, keep the fingers nimble, and the fires burning. I in truth, I was flipping and flopping between this wee verse and another that wont' be ready until tomorrow, won't make sense until then as well. And it never hurts when I am feeling as I am for Ryan Adams to sound on the CBC station that keeps me company at my work desk. Hearing his music always conjures up the urge to write and for that I am grateful.

Nothing else but the radio ...

In propinquity,

Nic