As I try to do my best impression of someone who can juggle work, school, and volunteering, I’ll have to be a little more creative with my posts. (That’s code for “there’s no chance in hell I’ll have time to read a book before Christmas break”.)
In the spirit of out-sourcing my posts while I try and get ahead on my assigned readings, I think I’ll start exploring some of the other great blogs on WordPress and share the great things I find. Today’s discovery is “Pomegranates” by Rachel Spencer.
And since I’m in class right now, I’ll just wrap this up. TTFN. (PS – Featured image found here.)
My earliest memory of Shakespeare,
aged six and serious among the picnickers
on an unremarkable evening in July.
It was temperate, perhaps, and the grass English-damp,
though in my mind the scene is as a storm about to break,
voices pitching hot and slow like thunder from the stage.
It was The Taming of the Shrew and I didn’t understand a word.
Still, rendered sombre by the lift and throw of their narration
I stood, enthralled, for the entire performance
as bearded men in tutus stepped deftly from ridiculous to sublime.
Each movement was potent as a sonnet and compelling.
It helped, too, that I was drunk on darkness and hours past bedtime,
struck solemn by the largeness of the lights and the irresistible glamour
of grapes packed carefully in Tupperware.
So I strained, unceasingly, to see words weightily unfurled,
a soldier at attention
and riddles fell like pomegranates from…
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