January 7, Poems

Ted Kooser wrote this poem a number of years ago:

January 7

Five degrees and light snow

An elaborate braiding of deer tracks

close to the house this morning early,

within a few yards of our two dogs

asleep on the porch. A dozen or more

walking soundlessly east in the night,

a half moon rising before them.

I like the long deft brush stroke

as each hoof swung into and out of the snow,

and the little splash kicked out ahead

as they stripped sweet bark from the darkness,

afraid of everything but not afraid.

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I wrote this appropriation a week ago Thursday:

January 7

       Thirty-nine degrees and cloudy

       A simple weaving of brush strokes

       on paper this afternoon early,

       in a loose grid suggested in a lesson

       downloaded from the web. Dozens

       whispering horizontally and vertically,

       my intuition rising imperceptibly before my hand.

       I like the warp and weft

       of tint and tone and shade

       and the little softnesses as they nudge each other,

       locking into a grid but completely open.

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loose backgrounds for later collage

loose grids

loose grid

loose grid