perfect possibility

A photo of Mishu our 10 month old ragdoll kitten in front of flowers and a barely visible fireplace

Yes...here is something perfect that only those who live in inhospitable environments know: There is something special about a frigid snowy afternoon and the solitude of a quiet house with cats and plants...especially when there is not a single good reason to go outside, and there is a fireplace and a good book to read. So...there you have it...Nebraska is indeed the good life!

I have a feeling that this poet was not writing about a snowy afternoon in Nebraska, but let's not be so picky!



AFTERNOON IN THE HOUSE
by Jane Kenyon

It's quiet here. The cats
sprawl, each
in a favored place.
The geranium leans this way
to see if I'm writing about her:
head all petals, brown
stalks, and those green fans.
So you see,
I am writing about you.

I turn on the radio. Wrong.
Let's not have any noise
in this room, except
the sound of a voice reading a poem.
The cat's request
The Meadow Mouse, by Theodore Roethke.

The house settles down on its haunches
for a doze.
I know you are with me, plants,
and cats - and even so, I'm frightened,
sitting in the middle of perfect
possibility.