Category: Home and Garden

OH SO TRUSTINGLY

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

in the interim he would have to save the barn
from immanent collapse and therein create
a suite for his future mother-in-law so he helped
the carpenter jack up the backside a half-foot
to replace rotten sill and sketched out plans     tracked down
a building permit     suspended new doors and windows
learned to use a variable-speed screwdriver far from expertly
hung drywall     painted walls and floors     laid vinyl flooring
and then     while waiting for plumbers to finish that job
it was a honeymoon ferry trip to Mohegan Island
as well as a traipse along autumnal Popham Beach
as he formally became oh so trustingly hers
as if any of this was in any way near finished

Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To read the full set of squirrelly poems, click here.

THE HUMAN IMPULSE TO COLOR

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

– dyes, ornamentation
black-and-white is focused defiance.

let’s be honest – these are weedy gardens
even with the black plastic film protection
or the arbor with ferns now

I have a woman without freckles
she doesn’t preen
she’s all business
she’s sexy as all hell

there are no wild boars here

“let’s go bag a deer”
“and then what?”
“we’ll make candles”

* * *

parables?
you’ll never understand
without practice

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
For more, click here.

ALL ON A WING, MOSTLY

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

already the goldfinches are losing their bright yellow,
shifting over to their “traveling clothes” …

cardinal flower still scarlet … the sunflowers nearly past …
will we have any pumpkins in this crazy year?

blue jays as monkey birds squawking

a stream of crows, maybe a hundred, all headed south
(the ten thousand roosting together in a cemetery, how spooky)

admiring the white gull against blue sky
and the black band on its wing

four white droplets fall away and vanish
never seen that before!

today, two large hawks, soaring

now-dun finches at the feeder

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
For more, click here.

THERE WERE NO EYES PEERING OUT FROM UNDER COONSKIN

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

when the snake that would have entered the burrow
had become a clothes line, pinned with nursing pups

nonetheless, when it came to his own yapping brood,
he was as territorial as any other male

running the risk of trying to span too much
when it came down to choosing sides,

he found no compassion for the frenzy
leaping from the bay window and

scurrying on the arm of his astonished roofer
no warmth, either, for overnight gnawing

through pristine crown molding
confronted by his rivals’ succeeding wave

weaned every three or four months,
who did he think he was, trying to command

shipshape precision in this collision?
it was only natural, then, his attempts

to shield his own from foul heavens
should invoke clownish tragedy or cannibalistic humor

just why would he assume in this life or that
anything was holding above their heads?

the roof is a bridge
between trees

*   *   *

squirrels would be snipers
rather than muster in any militia

Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To read the full set of squirrelly poems, click here.

WORKS, WORTH

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

not by intent, exactly, when repairing rotten sill
and ripping away needless wires
strung overhead, but under the floor

at times, a two-man job, with banter

still, keep an eye open for the unanticipated byproduct
in this case, a jest
envisioning a beer and wine cellar under the kitchen

nothing fancy, but acknowledging
the homebrew art
and gratitude for a place to age bottles decently
as for the wine, a house rule price limit
imposed by a glutted market

in season, the bulkhead would open its wings
on the shaded grilling garden, to the north,
or its cavern of contemplation within

a place of solitude and spiders
Squirrel would frequent

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of Home Maintenance poems, click here.

 

WHILE COOL, RAINY WEATHER DELAYS THE TOMATOES RIPENING

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

slugs thrive, and I’m back in Seattle, except
that here, broccoli, cucumbers, zucchini, and peppers
arrive in waves

and our woodworker-electrician and I tackle the barn renovation
in earnest

still, in a few breaks, I cross the line into Maine
sometimes with my Lady of Children’s Television
leaping rapturously in big surf
and sometimes with the afternoon all to myself
and once with the whole family
only to discover I’ve packed No 4 sunscreen
rather than No 15
(as a serious burns will demonstrate)

in all of this matter of burrows and burrowing
in the earth, in the foliage, at the beach

while fully resolving to keep the wedding simple
my Lady of Parsley and Sage delves deep into planning
what has already become too complicated for my taste
(“what do you mean, you don’t want a potluck?”)
and we meet with an Oversight Committee

in Portsmouth Harbor the family tours a Viking ship
on its way from Iceland to Manhattan
and the following week, a full-size Theodore Tugboat
with rolling eyes and all, as any kid watching PBS could explain

all the while, life itself feels submerged in Limbo
as absconded as our plumbers

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
For more, click here.

 

IN THE EXQUISITE EXTRAPOLATION

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

a squirrel sees a landscape
varying at multiple levels

look up to a branch
it’s there

*   *   *

would he go?
would she come?

he’s been there
before              and any good squirrel is wary

let’s be sensible
invoking
misadventures

*   *   *

to be lying flat against
the opposite side of a tree

such a useful skill
he could use at the office

*   *   *

the vampire
or witch

versus

a squirrel
and crossbones

in the exquisite
extrapolation

Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To read the full set of squirrelly poems, click here.

 

ALL IN THE FAMILY

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

She asks, “What do you want?” (Apart from the obvious?)

For this household to be harmonious, I reply.

It’s a good place to start, she agrees.

Safety, for one child. And gratitude – including the things that haven’t happened.

Health – and the right companion – for the other.

Healing, happiness, and meaningful employment, for yet another.

And contentment, for the mother-in-law.

A good garden, too.

As for me? Where do I even begin? Really begin?

ON OUR OWN GROUND

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 1 Comment

each springtime and summer
we go our rounds, grubbing out

pervasive maple sprouts, glistening slugs
the evil elegance of bindweed

to open way
for what flowers or what bears would harvest

each repetition its own mixture
of success and disappointment

* * *

as my Lady of the Fabric Bins explains
the palette of the tongue

its savory and sweet
variations of wine tannin or bite

torches in our smoking garden twilight
with charcoal, glowing and ready

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
For more, click here.