Anora McGaha is my featured poet this week, come to spend some time in my kitchen, along with--yes--a frog! She is fascinated by the natural world, and as you can see from the poem that follows, she finds poetry in it. She now lives outside Raleigh, a transplanted Yankee who plans to stay in the South. I think she knows that North Carolina is the best home a writer could have. Anora gives a brief portrait of herself:
I was born in Boston and my grandparents home in Cambridge Massachusetts was the most constant home I knew. My father was a diplomat, and my mother was half Italian and half American, and the daughter of a diplomat. We grew up moving every 9 - 24 months around the Mediterranean. Studying a little Arabic, a lot of French, some Italian. I majored in Chinese at university, and did my time in the corporate world in Boston, New York,DC and Raleigh, and now have my own business doing writing and multi-media content development for online marketing and publicity. I've been writing poems since high school. I draw from many traditions, and have been influenced by too many languages and places and experiences.
Kitchen Keeper's Emerald
Frog-frogleaps ontothe back doorwindow paneevery other night
Brown eyes peeringinto the darkwhite skinned bellypressed against the glass
Little finger toe padsgrippingas if made to belongon the back deck door
Frog-frog’s pale throatpulses like a babyfeeding
Waitingfor the flyersto draw near the kitchen light slipping outinto the night
Frog-frogembodies greenspring greenbrilliant greenprecious green
Exotic asthe rain forestpoison frogsor the latest jewel-toneenameled smart car
Frog-frog came from Carytwice beforea guest at the Cary back deck door
Kitchen keeperdidn’t know hemade the moveto Apex
'Tilone winter morninghidden in a potunder rottingdark browned leavesa green as fineas emeralds
Two years laterKitchen keeperleft the shades openafter sunsetand there he wasFrog-frogon his sitting spoton the deck door glass
Frog-frog doesn’t likethe camera’s flashand springs awaylike Barishnikovin ballet
NightlyKitchen keeperpeers into the glassthat keeps the bugsat bay
Hoping to seeNorth Carolina’sleaping emeraldFrog-frog
July 30, 2011
Anora's frog
Anora McGaha is my featured poet this week, come to spend some time in my kitchen, along with--yes--a frog! She is fascinated by the natural world, and as you can see from the poem that follows, she finds poetry in it. She now lives outside Raleigh, a transplanted Yankee who plans to stay in the South. I think she knows that North Carolina is the best home a writer could have. Anora gives a brief portrait of herself:
I was born in Boston and my grandparents home in Cambridge Massachusetts was the most constant home I knew. My father was a diplomat, and my mother was half Italian and half American, and the daughter of a diplomat. We grew up moving every 9 - 24 months around the Mediterranean. Studying a little Arabic, a lot of French, some Italian. I majored in Chinese at university, and did my time in the corporate world in Boston, New York,DC and Raleigh, and now have my own business doing writing and multi-media content development for online marketing and publicity. I've been writing poems since high school. I draw from many traditions, and have been influenced by too many languages and places and experiences.
Kitchen Keeper's Emerald
Frog-frog
leaps onto
the back door
window pane
every other night
Brown eyes peering
into the dark
white skinned belly
pressed against the glass
Little finger toe pads
gripping
as if made to belong
on the back deck door
Frog-frog’s pale throat
pulses like a baby
feeding
Waiting
for the flyers
to draw near
the kitchen light
slipping out
into the night
Frog-frog
embodies green
spring green
brilliant green
precious green
Exotic as
the rain forest
poison frogs
or the latest jewel-tone
enameled smart car
Frog-frog
came from Cary
twice before
a guest at the Cary
back deck door
Kitchen keeper
didn’t know he
made the move
to Apex
'Til
one winter morning
hidden in a pot
under rotting
dark browned leaves
a green as fine
as emeralds
Two years later
Kitchen keeper
left the shades open
after sunset
and there he was
Frog-frog
on his sitting spot
on the deck door glass
Frog-frog doesn’t like
the camera’s flash
and springs away
like Barishnikov
in ballet
Nightly
Kitchen keeper
peers into the glass
that keeps the bugs
at bay
Hoping to see
North Carolina’s
leaping emerald
Frog-frog
July 30, 2011
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| Anora's frog |
6 comments:
Ooooooh, the best kitchen keeper I can imagine. You and he have quite an enduring love. I'm glad Frog Frog let you finally take a picture as it was so much fun to see the green you speak of.
Can't wait to see what marvel of nature will be your next topic, Anora!
Peace, Mariah Wheeler
Thanks so much for reading and enjoying it Mariah! The frogs are mostly hiding now that it is cooler, but I've had a couple of visit from grey/gray foxes!
I enjoyed the poem and the photo! Cute frog. Your poems about animals are unique.
Thanks Alison. I look forward to seeing your poetry in print online or off before too long.
Wonderful imagery, Anora! My favorite lines are:
"Little finger toe pads
gripping
as if made to belong
on the back deck door
Frog-frog’s pale throat
pulses like a baby
feeding"
I am also a transplanted Yankee, and your words take me back to my own nights at the kitchen door listening to the sounds of summer.
Thank you so much Kristy. It's so helpful to hear what lines spoke to you. I loved your mentioning listening at your kitchen door for the sounds of summer. Beautifully said.
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