by JOYCE KILMER
“I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.”
For most of this week, I will be alone at work. Because of a screw up in HR, most everyone is taking off this week because they’d lose their time otherwise. Because I am paid through a different program, this didn’t affect me. I still have all my vacation time. So while everyone enjoys a week off, I will be holding down the fort. We do have one part-time employee that the HR error didn’t affect. She may be in some of the week, but she might be working out of the office too. Even so, most of the week, I will have the office to myself. I have a few minor projects to work on, but nothing to keep me busy the whole week. I will definitely be doing some reading while everyone is gone.
23 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
The Boston Museum of Fine Arts is amazing. They had a Botticelli exhibit that was truly out of this world. The Venus above is an example of what was there. We also went to the American gallery where they had an exhibit of John Singer Seargent. Wow, that was some beautiful art, such as the nude below.
In yesterday’s blog…
While an understandable emotion in this situation, in fact you have nothing to feel guilty about. You stated you love your job so the issue is its non-permanence. Anyone in this predicament would seriously consider trying to find employment elsewhere. No employer can or would expect an employee to work under the threat of eventual job loss. If your leaving would put them in a bind, then perhaps they should reconsider the status of your position. Good luck with your search. ❤
The shortness of your blog entries and the lack of any enthusiasm for life in small town New England makes clear that your present job, while it rescued you in the nick of time, is not what you want or need. If the funding for your position is at risk, then you have a full justification for looking for another post of the same kind, for which you now have experience.
The above were my two comments from yesterday’s post entitled “Guilt.” Let me address Susan’s first. I know I shouldn’t feel guilty. I’m a loyal person though and it bothers me that I may disappoint my current coworkers. However, my job is uncertain at this point and who knows where I will be in two years. This job came open and I had to apply. In my opinion there was little choice in the matter. Besides, I just need to get over myself because the other job may not even consider me a worthwhile candidate.
As for Anonymous’s comment, it is true that my blog posts have become shorter since I moved here. There are several reasons for that. When my friend died 18 months ago, I lost my muse. He was very good at giving me suggestions to write on or sparking something inside me to compel me to write about that. Now that muse is gone. Second, small town New England is quite boring. There just isn’t that much going on, and to be truthful, though I love my coworkers, they aren’t a really exciting bunch. There are topics I could go on and on about such as Donald Trump or what I miss about the South, but then my blog would have a negative feel to it and I don’t want that. I would miss a few things about up here. For one I love how close I am to Montreal. I’ve only been once but I’ve been planning to go back. I have some vacation time I need to take.
Anyway, there you have it. I’m off to Boston this morning. I won’t be back until tomorrow, but I’ll post something for tomorrow’s blog.
This week, I applied for a new job. I love my job, but I wish it was closer to home. Also, my job may turn out to be a temporary project, so there is no guarantee that I’ll have a job in a few more years. So I applied for a new job closer to home. It would be at one of the best universities in the South. I don’t know why I feel guilty about applying, except I’d leave my current employer in a major bind. However, I may not even be considered for the job I applied for. In the meantime, I’ll probably still feel guilty until I find out one way or another about this other job.
Instructions on Not Giving Up
by Ada Limón
More than the fuchsia funnels breaking out
of the crabapple tree, more than the neighbor’s
almost obscene display of cherry limbs shoving
their cotton candy-colored blossoms to the slate
sky of Spring rains, it’s the greening of the trees
that really gets to me. When all the shock of white
and taffy, the world’s baubles and trinkets, leave
the pavement strewn with the confetti of aftermath,
the leaves come. Patient, plodding, a green skin
growing over whatever winter did to us, a return
to the strange idea of continuous living despite
the mess of us, the hurt, the empty. Fine then,
I’ll take it, the tree seems to say, a new slick leaf
unfurling like a fist to an open palm, I’ll take it all.
About This Poem
“It was a hard winter. My whole body raged against it. But right as the world feels uninhabitable, something miraculous happens: the trees come back. I wanted to praise that ordinary thing as a way of bringing myself back too.”
Ada Limón is the author of Bright Dead Things (Milkweed Editions, 2015). She teaches in the low-residency MFA prog
Yet another Monday when I don’t want to get out of bed. It’s going to be a long week.