NPD Anthology 2002
A Glorious Act of Celebration
by Barbara Ostrander
The smell of hot roasted coffee,
the quiet of a sleeping house,
sunshine to melt across hardwood floors,
a garden yawning wet and washed just beyond French doors.
Anticipation at first wake, of poets worldwide
typing and opening their words
in a glorious act of celebration.
The rare October day wore
leaves of orange, russet, gold.
A cold stethoscope, a routine blood drawn,
some pills to swallow,
a quick cup of coffee before
shuffling down long cool halls
to the MRI room.
Outside the fog chokes the skyline, mutes dreams,
yet anticipation still permeates even this
sterile white environment,
as worldwide poets begin to stretch and scribble
in a glorious act of celebration,
I crawl back into bed, turn my computer on,
and look for you.