This is probably as good a morning as any to write a piece of poetry.
Straightaway there is the sound and smell of an early morning rain shower to set the scene
And then I could lay some more groundwork by moving pretty quickly to the soft cooing of the morning dove perched in the crepe myrtle blooms
I’ll have the reader turn their face gently upward to catch a glimpse of the powder grey wing of that peaceful bird
Or just go ahead and train the viewers attention to the way the raindrops have already inserted themselves into the torn wire on the screen door where I found myself a few minutes ago seemingly lost inside the silvery reflection of a collection of small molecules we have named water and which have the uncanny and overwhelming responsibility of quenching our many thirsts.
As I stood there imagining the small world within a drop of water lodged in my screen door, the whole thing lost its grip and slid away.
I remembered my “to do” list back at my desk, and came over here and sat down to work.
Now, the neighbor’s new puppy is crying across the back fence, and the compressor for the air conditioner has drowned out, or scared away, the morning dove.
I’m confronted again by the list of things I am supposed to accomplish this morning.
This is probably as good a morning as any to write a piece of poetry.
Julie Williams Dixon
June 11, 2012
