{"id":12212,"date":"2022-08-01T18:25:00","date_gmt":"2022-08-01T18:25:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/?p=12212"},"modified":"2023-01-09T13:21:40","modified_gmt":"2023-01-09T13:21:40","slug":"three-poems-marge-piercy-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/?p=12212","title":{"rendered":"THREE POEMS – Marge Piercy"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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THE ANNUAL SOLSTICE GATHERING<\/strong> <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

We\u2019re planning our first almost normal
party since Covid struck. It feels
risky, perhaps dangerous. Who wants
to be creators of a super spreader?<\/p>\n

But most people invited replied
within minutes, starved for a party,
longing to see friends cut off for
two years of isolation, loneliness.<\/p>\n

It felt as if my world ended at the hill\u2019s
bottom, the driveway giving way
to street no one came down. I don\u2019t
know how many more I can give<\/p>\n

but now the need pushes anxiety
aside like a curtain covering a door.
Come, guests! Faces I haven\u2019t seen
in years, voices unheard, stories<\/p>\n

untold. Silence has been packed
around me like those plastic commas
that come in mailed boxes. Covid
turned silence from golden to lead.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 

<\/p>\n

NECESSARY AND BEAUTIFUL <\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

There are many less bees
and few butterflies, but I planted
a pollinator garden in three
narrow raised beds.<\/p>\n

When the flowers bloomed
they attracted only me.
I picked none, not wanting
to deprive visitors.<\/p>\n

Finally the bees came,
occasional butterflies,
and resident humming-
birds went for the reds.<\/p>\n

It did its job: our squashes,
tomatoes, peppers were
properly pollinated. We
ate the bees\u2019 hard work.<\/p>\n

All the busy ones we owe
so much die from greedy
corporations, the lawn proud
who casually poison them.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n 

<\/p>\n

I TRY TO BE PATIENT <\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The snow has worn through
like a balding rug and here
and there, increasingly, old
grass and insurgent daffodils<\/p>\n

stick out. The birds are hungry
and a doe with her two fawns
and a yearling nibble rhodo-
dendrons, staring at me<\/p>\n

who stand at the window
watching. They feel safe here.
Turkeys strut up the drive.
You can see the dinosaur<\/p>\n

in them. I start cole crops
in peat pots and cover them.
When will the first crocuses
offer their cups to the sun?<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Copyright 2022 Marge Piercy
Box 1473, Wellfleet MA 02667
Hagolem75@gmail.com<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

<\/pre>\n\n\n\n
  \n
Marge Piercy is author of seventeen volumes of poems, among them The Moon is Always Female <\/em>(1980, considered a feminist classic) and The Art of Blessing the Day<\/em> (1999), as well as fifteen novels, one play (The Last White Class<\/em>, co-authored with her third and current husband Ira Wood), one collection of essays (Parti-colored Blocks for a Quilt), one nonfiction book, and one memoir.<\/p><\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her novels and poetry often focus on feminist or social concerns, although her settings vary. While Body of Glass <\/em>(published in the USA as He, She and It) is a science fiction novel that won the Arthur C. Clarke Award, City of Darkness, City of Light <\/em>is set during the French Revolution. Other of her novels, such as Summer People<\/em> and The Longings of Women are set during th<\/em>e modern day. All of her books share a focus on women’s lives.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
THE ANNUAL SOLSTICE GATHERING    We\u2019re planning our first almost normalparty since Covid struck. It feelsrisky, perhaps dangerous. Who wantsto be creators of a super spreader? But most people invited repliedwithin minutes, starved for a party,longing to see friends cut off fortwo years of isolation, loneliness. It felt as if my world ended at the [&hellip<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":12379,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[402,401,400],"class_list":["post-12212","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poetry","tag-art-2","tag-banquet-in-silence-met","tag-marden-hartley"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12212","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=12212"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12212\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12375,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12212\/revisions\/12375"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/12379"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=12212"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=12212"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=12212"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}