After an extended period of mostly silence, I have decided it's time to retire Things Deb Loves. I won't be deleting the blog (meaning it will still be here for re-reading if you are so inclined), but I will no longer be posting on it. I have very much enjoyed sharing with you my love of all the things and my having of all the feelings, but the time has come to move on.
I have started a new blog, which you can feel free to follow if you like. I'm not sure yet what kind of blog it will be, but I needed a new space for new reflection and some artistic experimentation.
Hope to see you there.
Monday, March 18, 2013
I hope you are not disappointed that after all this time my first blog post is a poem I did not write. But when I happened upon it randomly just now my heart swelled and I wanted so much to share it and I wanted so much to be a poet half as brilliant as Anne Sexton and write a piece half as wonderful and brief and true.
Just once I knew what life was for.
In Boston, quite suddenly, I understood;
walked there along the Charles River,
watched the lights copying themselves,
all neoned and strobe-hearted, opening
their mouths as wide as opera singers;
counted the stars, my little campaigners,
my scar daisies, and knew that I walked my love
on the night green side of it and cried
my heart to the eastbound cars and cried
my heart to the westbound cars and took
my truth across a small humped bridge
and hurried my truth, the charm of it, home
and hoarded these constants into morning
only to find them gone.