[Critique Group 2] Leonard's comments on Joan's sub.

[tuchyner5 at aol.com]

The Morning I Choose to Dust the Bookshelf



by Joan Myles









the morning I choose to dustthe bookshelf



after too much rain and solittle caring



the garden gropes its waythrough fog



and winter’s hush crowds the windows



It is winter. 



She decides to do something so mundane as to dust the bookshelf. 



The garden has too  much rain and pushes its way through the fog.



Winter is a pall that surrounds the house. 




 


ceramic birds merely imitateflight



where have all the flowersgone




 


Everythingseems artificial . 



Thebirds are fake.  There are no flowers. 



Shemisses  them.



-------------



his grandmother’s mirth



I don’t know who he is, 



so I don’t know whose grandmother and whose mother that part of the poem is talking about.   



Grandmother and mother could be the same person.   



One person laughs about the winter while the other one isfrightened by it.




 


In my mother’s fears




 


the silence conspires even as it consoles me



They can  both be you.  



You could be inspired  andconsoled by the silence.




 



 


each small task becoming all the more significant



each object suspended in timelessness



And one beam of light upon my hand




 


Little tasks can become significant, while doing the  tasks that a mother does. 



Each little movement becomes a source  of light and inspiration.









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