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The Poetry of Life

Coffee doesn’t seem to be working this morning.  The sun is out but it is cold.  Essie is sleeping in the man cave.  I’m not sure how long she’ll be out as her medicine (two pain pills) is supposed to make her drowsy.  She fought it all day yesterday after I brought her home.  She wouldn’t let herself fall asleep and stay there until we went to bed.  It turns out she has an ear infection as well as the sting on her paw has become infected.  So she has ear drops that go in both ears and an antiseptic pad that I wipe her paw with as well.

I am finding myself looking at more poetry lately.  I have followed a few new poets (new to me) on here.  Some of them are very avant guard with their words and visions.  It was nice to read a poem and have the words depict things in the minds eye way out of my norm.  When I was in my 20s I found myself reading a lot of poetry.  I still have all of the books I purchased.  I may spend some time going through them again to explore them once more.  Maybe that will help.

I enjoy listening to Sir Patrick Stewart recite sonnets every day.  I some times wait and just listen to a bunch in a row.  Dad used to recite poetry to me when I was little.  I remember him reciting “The Raven” from heart as I read along in my book (I still have the book) at bed time.  Mom was less than thrilled with the choice of reading material but she and I were the ones that stayed up and watched the Ghoul on Friday nights as well as all the old school horror movies on Saturday afternoons (after cartoons of course) with Sir Graves.

I think I will get a fresh cup of coffee and curl up with a book.  Maybe poetry.  Maybe prose.  We shall see.  I hope you and yours are safe.  Thanks for reading!