Skip to main content

Doughnuts -a poem by Abigail Mott

Friends,
Winter’s arrival has been conspicuously… wintery. Sudden snow accompanied by an unabashed blast of arctic air. A blatant change so shameless one could be forgiven for suspecting it a deliberate flaunt. The change of seasons kicks-in our door and calls us to attention howling “Denver, I’m hoooome!” We knew Wednesday’s wonderful weather was too good to last, still it was easy to distrust the foretold 40 degree drop. It was warm enough for a pleasant lunchtime stroll down 16th street. Warm enough, for a turtleneck-clad lady with an ancient typewriter on a rickety tray table to sit outdoors selling bespoke poetry. Warm enough, it seemed like a good idea to blow my entire weekly donut allowance on one such a poem -a present for you. Not a dozen donuts but Abigail Mott’s poem about them. As you snuggle in your warm corner, sip on warm cocoa and gaze out your window at a landscape that’s beginning to look a lot like winter, enjoy these fanciful lines written on a whim at the request of a stranger.

Happy Friday and Merry Christmas!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

BIrds of a Feather

Friends, The early bird catches the worm, however, as the sun rises I’d much rather have a Denver omelet than a diet of worms . Ready to fly the coop, my ducks all in a row, I ponder one more time whether a bird in hand is truly worth two in the bush. Egged-on by my quest to tuck away a nest egg, I’ve decided to change industries and hope that, like the phoenix, my career will also rise from the ashes of change. After all, I’m no spring chicken –my crow’s feet and gray bely my age – however, I have to trust my judgment and believe you can’t catch this old bird with chaff (whether or not folks think me an odd bird for my actions). And so I shall attempt to soar like an eagle, aware that counting my chickens before they hatch would be ill-advised. As I learn to talk turkey in the language of cybersecurity, I will endeavor not to hide my head in the sand, choosing instead to be like a duck – calm on the surface and paddle like hell underneath! And while my excessive use of bird-inspired

Love and Marriage go together like a Horse and... Donut!

Friends, My family gained a new daughter last week. As I welcome the freshly minted Mrs. González, I wish the new couple a lasting, loving, happy and tranquil marriage. I am also reminded of a special delivery I received at the wedding. A few weeks ago, my niece/goddaughter held a “go fund me” and offered to stitch something for the donors. I, of corse, asked for a horse jumping through a donut. The completed masterpiece depicting this unlikely combo now has a special place in my office, and brings a smile to my face every time I see it. That said, I may forgo the obligatory donut today and opt for some of the leftover cake we still have at the house. Happy Friday!   New addition to the Family Horse through donut  with the artist   Horse through donut at it’s new home shelf P.S. The donut wall in action.

Life is Smiling!

Friends, You know life is good when even dinner smiles at you. That said, digging into smiley soup can pose a dilemma. At a conscious level, you know it’s just inert food. Inanimate, unsentient, incapable of emotion or feeling. Still, those cute cross eyed egg eyes and that little pepper smile are saying ”I’m your friend” —and friends don’t eat friends. Naming your anthropomorphic dish only makes matters worse. Eventually, being the monster I am, hunger wins. Mmmm, delicious! (Sorry, Sally). Speaking of which, maybe skip the smiley faces on that next dozen donuts. Happy Friday! ;-)