Pause

Brilliant! :-) A real life turned into poetry is a little miracle by itself.

Blessings and best wishes - S.

Atticus, you're proving, as always, that poetry is to be found in the smallest things (and also the things in life that take the most time, like ironing). To the nine billion names for love, I add your poetry to the list! A rose may be just a rose, but in your hands, it's more than a rose -- it's poetry, as well as love.

Poetry can be found anywhere. Good job.

I pause,
with a wry smile,
to listen to the gentleness of
your breath,
...excellent !

Great way of sliding into an affirmation of love, Atticus, you have achieved here that wonderfully casual, offhand way of drifting into the heart of a poem while negating its possibility.

Love the speaker´s voice, the personalization of Stein´s aphorism about language which is also an astute meta-comment on poetry´s emergence from the ordinariness of speech.

This is a fully realized, publishable contemporary poem, and one of my absolute favorites of yours.

A big salute on scribbling out an observant, shrewd and tender minor miracle of the everyday heart.

Ah. Sigh. Again. Sigh.

Perfect.

Poetry is always, somehow, about love, I think.

sweet and relaxing~like a shoulder rub just at the right moment~like a touch of temple to temple~

Excellent!
poetry in motion...
every day every moment...

When there is no time for (writing) poetry, that is the very time that it's forming in the poet's mind, no? Very enjoyable piece, Atticus. I say yes, that is the way I like it. Simple observations that tell a profound story.

One critique: maybe think about the word gentleness. To my way of thinking, it is too bland and stereotypical. You've spitting irons, popped buttons, and wry smiles. I'll be the voice is also fetching. So find that word. :-) :-) (I'm going to risk it here and say:) The word is out there Sir Atticus, fetch it.

It is realistic and hitting.

I, the universe

Lovely and poignant. The ending is powerful and brilliant. Thank you for posting to our group.

By this you have endeared yourself to me
This is the kind of love I breathe to see

Featured in Poet's Weekly Muse!

Thank you all so very much. I find that so much of poetry, for me at least, is about learning to turn the switch from just running the treadmill to intently observing and examining my life and thought, no matter what is happening. Thank you all for noticing with me the beauty and profound nature of the ordinary. You all continue to teach me to do this with your own fine works and comments. Sometimes something someone says or writes sets off a tiny train of thought running in the background that crystalizes into a little epiphany and a re-centering of soul.

Andrea, thank you! You are so kind to my little poems. Yes, poetry is found in the smallest most mundane things. And there are at least nine billion more things to say about love.

John, your comments always give me homework! Thank you so much, my friend and teacher, your comments provide such encouragement and guidance.

Thank you Susan for the great comment and the helpful criticism. Sometimes these little flash poems don't get the scrutiny they need before posting. I am so grateful for your insight. That is what a community of writers is all about.

Jan, I am honored by your verse. Thank you so much for featuring my poem.

Very enjoyable to go where your mind leads from these apparently mundane events. Thanks for sharing your wonderful poem.

Whoa. Loved it!

This is great, Atticus. At least, I was left with a heavy happiness in my chest. What more could one ask of a poem?

Its written in an off the cuff manner, as if it came all at once. This is just the right tone to set for the sentiment at the end. Indeed - love appears in those impossible moments. Its great work and as John points out extremely publishable - but more - it reminds me to look amongst the clutter and chatter for the precious.

Thank you Alison, Michael, Stirling and Nathan. I sincerely appreciate your comments.

Nathan, that is indeed how this one came. The title comes from the habit I've gotten into of stopping or pausing when I feel flustered or being controlled by circumstance and trying to see some greater or more poetic truth than my own self-focused involvement. I'm not sure if that is a good way to write all the time. Sometimes it works. I love these little poems but can't help but think of them as zen practice, building blocks for a greater understanding of life via language; sketches, if you will. Thanks so much.

The late Jane Kenyon would recognize this fine style - her beloved husband wrote poems to her in the same easy, everyday manner.

A class act, Atticus.

Thank You Barbary

Back for a gander and found a Swan.

Atticus - what a brilliant poem to go with careful observations and emotions. I love the voice and the way the poem reads. It is refined yet masculine that displays an honest rawness that I am always drawn too. Simple on the surface yet leaves the reader wanting to know the further story.

And as always Atticus - imagery, well done! I can see it all from the tight lines around his face, the dark shadows of the room, and movement of dogs waking to welcome him home, the sounds of her breath which he slightly looks over his shoulder to her to listen with admiration. I love when words evoke so much more to the reader than what is actually written.

Beautiful...