Linda Conroy
A Need for Small Pleasures
The tang of orange marmalade on toasted sourdough bread
reminds me that the world may not be falling to disgrace.
A squirrel nibbles on a camellia bud held in its paws
outside the window where I sit and sort my scribbled notes.
The feel of fresh-washed hair, of an ironed shirt, does something to
amend the shock of news events of yesterday when lives were spent.
The smallest sip of sweet milk in the middle of the dark, quiet all
around, no trucks or sirens, no guns, just ticking of a midnight clock.
New lines of verse found in a favorite book send me pondering
on others' lack, my fortune or my luck to sit here thinking, as
a cat slips past the honeysuckle bush. I see peonies, laden, huge,
a rush of juncos on the path and rhubarb waiting to be picked
amid the strife of flood and fire and smoke, of ferocity, of hunger,
pain and rage, the need for minor magic, an image of new faith.
Bio
Linda Conroy is a retired social worker who likes to write poetry that portrays the simplicity and complexity of the natural world and of behaviors that make us human. She enjoys the challenge of writing short poems. She is the author of two poetry collections, Ordinary Signs, and Familiar Sky.