I wish all Spy readers a wondrous holiday and a new year filled with peace and joy. As the year winds down, I find myself reflecting on these past months. Here is a poem I wrote about such reflections.
Still life
So many rooftops, tabletops, stovetops have I claimed
Rooms measured, chairs arranged for conversations fraught with nuance
Walls painted, changed from light to dark, shadow striped and glazed
Gardens tilled, planted, weeded, and refigured
Endless bouquets of flowers in tall vases
Fresh fruits and vegetables in bowls,
Arranged by color and size, cast in shadow and light
Books on shelves erudite and deep
Too much poetry? Too little prose?
A bit of theater in repose
A glass of sherry, a spot of port
To which political topic shall we resort in a year
Filled with division, destruction, and retort
Recycled thoughts like papers shredded and reconstituted
So much pretension, wasted time
Revisions turn from reductions to deductions
A denouement or yet another variation on a theme
Decisions made may bode more danger than first seen
Photographs flash freeze upon my screen.
Still life.
Maria Grant was principal-in-charge of the federal human capital practice of an international consulting firm. While on the Eastern Shore, she focuses on writing, reading, music, and nature.
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