Ordinary Magic


No longer do I rise first
to help push the sun over the mountain,
and see the steam lifting
off the backs of the horses. Instead
I am mending the pasture fence,
which is somewhat futile
since tomorrow my gelding will break it again.

But I value the ritual of it, the repetition,
the angry horse galloping back and forth
across my neighbor’s land,
then heading toward me at full speed,
and stopping just  inches away.
It’s a game he appears to take pleasure in,
and I don’t begrudge him this daily display of obstinance.

I’m having to earn the respect of all the animals
with ordinary magic. Feeding, watering
carrying, mending. Who would have thought
I’d be enjoying this,
the scent of mud and animals on me.

This must be why the angel chose to come back as human—
the smell of coffee, the dirt, the wet dogs
jumping on our earthly coats, the incredible difficulty
of love, the audible click
when we choose it, set our jaw firmly,
and move on to do the work.

                               

                                                    from Connecticut Review

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Leslie R. Fenn | Reply 24.01.2015 19.56

Missy,
I have been reading your poems occasionally because I am not used to poetry and need practice. I LOVE this poem.
xoxx Leslie

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16.07 | 18:46

Woweezowee, Missy, Congratulations on your new book!!!
This is a great web page where I can finally access all your writings!

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24.01 | 19:56

Missy,
I have been reading your poems occasionally because I am not used to poetry and need practice. I LOVE this poem.
xoxx Leslie

...
28.12 | 13:58

Missy-Marie, first, my best wishes & many blessings for the new year 2015, soon to be! Second, congratulations for all your beautiful master pieces creations.

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11.08 | 21:04

Still chuckling as I write this. Wonderful nugget of family life.

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