Slice of Life

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Here’s a slice of life. I have been sitting by the fire all day in this big chair, reading. Pure luxury. Ahhh, a day just to read… and not to write… to think… and not to write…  

One of the things I have been reading today is the poetry of Ted Kooser. Part of the genius of poetry is to capture a “slice of life” without bias, without sentimentality, without resolve, without closure. Kooser is a master.

Here is a little slice of life from Ted Kooser from his book, “Flying at Night.”

At the Cancer Clinic

She is being helped toward the open door
that leads to the examining rooms
by two young women I take to be her sisters.
Each bends to the weight of an arm
and steps with the straight, tough bearing
of courage. At what must seem to be
a great distance, a nurse holds the door,
smiling and calling encouragement.
How patient she is in the crisp white sails
of her clothes. The sick woman
peers from under her funny knit cap
to watch each foot swing scuffing forward
and take its turn under her weight.
There is no restlessness or impatience
or anger anywhere in sight. Grace
fills the clean mold of this moment
and all the shuffling magazines grow still.


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