Life With Horace

poetry & essays

Copyright©2016 Kate Rantilla, all rights reserved.


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the sound that quiet makes

this day of gratitude
is warm
wrapped with a hush
across the wild place
outside my door
hours lived at stop action pace
intermixed with grace note quiet moments
two horses graze across the road
jay scrabbles punctuating feeder flights
cars mostly absent never missed
trees almost bared
their shapes old friends
I look out to woods and placid beaver ponds
where birds flicker as small animals move
darting in counterpoint to anchored brown
such richness.
such richness in this temporary state
layerings of memory and love
not quite speaking underneath the flow
from earth to foot to heart
gravity confounded by life
flowing to the sky
and thanks are offered up


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The Stuffing Bowl

Once spied up on a dusty shelf
and brought home as a prize,
the stuffing bowl sits quiet,
holding memory in its curve.
The sisterhood of early rising cooks
assembling the ingredients
of timeless celebrations,
ingatherings of family and friends
all linked by common filament.
It waits for careful hands
to lift it down and fill its heart again
with love and thankfulness.

_______________________________
my sister Annie and I have always called each other on Thanksgiving morning, up early, cooking.