August 2013
I have been spending much of February through August dealing with a bad back, trying to write (with difficulty)and finally making the decision to have a massive seven hour surgery to deal with a compressed and out of alignment spine plus 2 destroyed discs. Am back from the hospital.
This is the start of week three Jane.2. Feeling well, aching but no deep pain that a half tramadol and a tylenol can’t control. Walking a half mile a day. Surgeons expect a mile at six weeks so I think I am on target.
There have been books rejected, books sold, poems and stories reprinted. But the focus has been on my back which is why stuff like this journal have been left to languish.
Giving you three poems instead. Part of my writing a poem a day for the last four years, though the last two I have been sending them out to subscribers as well. Please do not post these anywhere without permission.
February 24:
From another old favorite poem by a favorite poet.
Being Grass
”I’ll be the grass.”—May Swenson, from “The Exchange”
You be the wind,
I’ll be the grass,
I will feel you
as you pass.
You be the storm,
I’ll be the sea.
You’ll ruffle and tumble
and trouble old me.
You be the cloud,
I’ll be the sun.
You’ll hide my shimmer
till day is done.
You be the snow,
I’ll be the earth,
hiding the treasure
and what it is worth.
You be the wind,
I’ll be the grass,
We’ll be the winter,
and we will pass.
©2014 Jane Yolen all rights reserved
April 10: Started after reading a blog post by Windling in Myth and Moor about journies both inward and outward.
What Is the Path?
What is the path?
A longing, a stretch.
A step, an itch,
An ache, a turning,
A glance, a yearning,
A compass, a guide,
A world opened wide.
What is the road?
A jaunt, a will,
A trip, a spill,
A passage,
A message,
A post, a sign,
Travel through time.
What is the way?
The road, the path,
The aftermath.
The finished chore.
The opening door.
Pilgrimage, poem,
The coming home.
©2014 Jane Yolen all rights reserved
July 19:
My friend Patty MacLachlan sent me good wishes for my coming operation with the world’s greatest typo which I am using herewith.
Walkabout
This flats-and-sneakers lady,
never one to wear out her toes
in those bad girl shoes.
Who cultivated Italian sandals,
and gray bunny slippers.
Who left the shoe store empty-handed.
Yes, that one, with the quixotic back.
So surgery is indicated,
deep and wide, an exchange of discs,
assortment of steel rods,
risers, separators, the layers spread
and re-sewn, quilting the spine.
Soon all the alarms will ring hosannahs
in airports world-wide.
On that day, if the surgeons are worthy
of their collective hire,
the seams sewn with perfect stitchery,
that woman will eschew flats
for the first time in her life,
walking out of the hospital
in the highest of heals.
©2014 Jane Yolen all rights reserved
