Welcome to where I am, where my kitchen's always messy, a pot's (or a poet) always about to boil over, a dog is always begging to be fed. Drafts of poems on the counter. Windows filled with leaves. Wind. Clouds moving over the mountains. If you like poetry, books, and music--especially dog howls when a siren unwinds down the hill-- you'll like it here.


MY NEW AUTHOR'S SITE, KATHRYNSTRIPLINGBYER.COM, THAT I MYSELF SET UP THROUGH WEEBLY.COM, IS NOW UP. I HAD FUN CREATING THIS SITE AND WOULD RECOMMEND WEEBLY.COM TO ANYONE INTERESTED IN SETTING UP A WEBSITE. I INVITE YOU TO VISIT MY NEW SITE TO KEEP UP WITH EVENTS RELATED TO MY NEW BOOK.


MY NC POET LAUREATE BLOG, MY LAUREATE'S LASSO, WILL REMAIN UP AS AN ARCHIVE OF NC POETS, GRADES K-INFINITY! I INVITE YOU TO VISIT WHEN YOU FEEL THE NEED TO READ SOME GOOD POEMS.

VISIT MY NEW BLOG, MOUNTAIN WOMAN, WHERE YOU WILL FIND UPDATES ON WHAT'S HAPPENING IN MY KITCHEN, IN THE ENVIRONMENT, IN MY IMAGINATION, IN MY GARDEN, AND AMONG MY MOUNTAIN WOMEN FRIENDS.




Sunday, January 18, 2009

Snow, Snow, Snow

Sunday Morning. So quiet when I woke up. I looked out the window and there it was, the predicted snow, big flakes falling down like communion wafers to the earth. I used to think as a child that they were what snow tasted like, a taste I had to imagine, since we never had snow in SW Georgia, or not enough to, as my grandmother would say, shake a stick at.



I walked out to the front porch. Yes, snow. I hadn't been dreaming it while snuggling under the down comforter.



I looked up.



I looked down. Our Samoyed (mostly) Bro was standing at the door. The Magic Door. Why wasn't it opening?






I thought about the big snows we used to have here years ago in the valley and how once after a large one, I let Alma speak her isolation and vulnerability in a small cabin, left alone there in a winter storm.



(WILDWOOD FLOWER, LSU Press)

Now the snow has stopped. Time to go wash dishes and put the soup pot on for lunch. Yes, Alma spoke a poem to me about that, too. But I'll let that one wait till tomorrow. Or the next day.

4 comments:

Jane said...

Lovely here, too. I've been reading Alma again since you posted the Spring House poem. Good stuff for this weather.

Brenda Kay Ledford said...

Kay,

I love your poem and the photos. The snow was beautiful.

sam of the ten thousand things said...

Wonderful poem - wonderful collection.

Kathryn Stripling Byer said...

We didn't have enough snow. I might have written more poems and baked more bread! thank you al, so much for your kind words about the poems. I don't feel much like a poet these days, just a crazy person trying to clean the bathroom, the kitchn, and get some sort of supper on the table. Well, there's poetry'in that, I know,but I've already been there!
I want to go to Key West and drink margaritas!