Karen Friedland: Two Poems of Gratitude

Ridiculously Alive                                                                                          
 
I am thinking about 
the small spaces I inhabit
and the tiny things
I see every day—the very stones on the road.
 
I am thinking
that I will continue to reject
that which insults my soul—
this gets easier every year.
 
I am turning my mind instead
to everything that is now living—
my husband on the couch, reading the paper,
the dogs, softly snoring beside us,
the late summer crickets, with their fading 
   serenade.
 
Everything, I know, dies
but this does not grieve me right now—
 
Because at this moment,
everything is so brilliantly,
almost ridiculously, alive. 

—

Windows Are Open
 
Windows are wide open—
to the trees, to the birds,
to the day
 
Only this world,
Only to praise it.
 
Tunneling deep
into my own exhaustion,
I find I can barely lift a pen.
 
Mr. Crow
cleaves in half
this day,
and a small dog slumbers
against my back.
 
There’s something to be said
for loving your life,
exactly as it is—
 
these dogs,
these songs,
this summertime.

Karen Friedland’s books include Places That Are Gone (Nixes Mate Books, 2019)

Copyright 2020 Karen Friedland