Day Seven: Gifting

Today’s post is dedicated to Claudia McGill and all who leave their art or words behind for others to find. And blogging is nothing but.

The first poem-a-day week out of four is behind me. Today I wish you to look at the photos first, the poem comes at the end.

Claudia has about four blogs in which she shares her various fascinating activities such as poetry-writing marathons, short story illustrating and orienteering, but today I’d like you to have a look at her blog Sometimes You Get So Confused in which she shows us her art drop-offs. Here is the last piece. Hurry, maybe it’s still there.

Influenced by her art and the spots where she drops it, I passed this scene in February behind our train station and thought for a millisecond that Claudia was here.

And while we are there, at one of my favourite spots, we will make a circle with views in all directions.

Claudia concludes her post with what I wish you all as well: Happy Spring! Happy Art!

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  Can you see him?

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  I had a good long look.

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  And couldn’t decide if he was left or born here.

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  He is decidedly happy in either case. So I left him where he was. He is still there almost two months later.

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  Eucalyptus trees in mid February at 6 pm.

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  Same trees in mid March at 9.30 am. The tracks are just behind.

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  The back entrance to the station. Now we shall make a circle clockwise.

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  The road parallel to the tracks.

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  Vaguely direction Rome, southeast.

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  What is the sun doing there then at 6pm? My sense of direction is not all that… (Got it. This photo should be the last. See the trees?)

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  Opposite the tracks. Lake Burano and the sea behind. Which makes it west. I guess.

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  I like coming to this gate at night and just looking beyond. One time I scared some pheasants.

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  To the north and back to the trees.

Challenge 7: “Write a poem of gifts and joy. What would you give yourself, if you could have anything? What would you give someone else?”

Gifting

 A gift:
 present,
 talent
 or poison,
 depends on who you ask.

 I’d like to gift
 the world and me a new job,
 blow it  
 out of proportion,
 render others  
 obsolete.

 Do all jobs blow?

 My job?
 I like to leave
 art to artists,
 poems to poets,  
 shots to photographers
 and doors to everybody

 just as some leave
 stones for the takers.  

 Gifting is  
 giving to yourself
 as much as to others,
 and lucky us who can.  

For Day 7 of NaPoWriMo