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NaPoWriMo - The End

I promised to post a poem or a poetry-related post every day in April -- and I almost made it. But I hit the wall four days before the end, posting my last poem on Saturday, April 26th (or Tuesday the 29th, if you want to count this one.)  And this post is being written on Sunday, May 4th, not the end of April date at the head of the post. That's a cheat, to keep this post in the NaPoWriMo month.

Even though I didn't make it all the way through, I enjoyed this exercise. It kept me open, receptive to whatever presented itself. Though I didn't post every poem, I accepted every impulse -- and those that did not evolve into something postable may still be fertile seeds. We had a poem dance; several folks wrote pieces from my NaPoWriMo prompts; and Fran and Cindy helped me fill out the month.

I'm still a bit emptied-out, so posting may be slow for another few days. But I'll fill up again soon.

 And -- the sun is out!

What Matters

It doesn't matter that it's snowing in April,
and it doesn't matter that the wallet is scant.
Outside these windows, snow is blowing,
but inside the light is yellow and the table
is covered with food -- beans, corn, chicken,
tortillas. Around the table are the cooks
and the guests and the host, being guested
at her own table. There is root beer, dark
beer, ginger ale, vodka and orange juice,
salsa and avocados. There are limes.

There are old friends and new family.
There is goddaughter, laughing. The man
who cooked the meal is big and tattooed
from the neck down. His earlobes are
the size of condiment bowls. He should be
fierce. He should be frightening. Instead,
he fills the bellies of these recent strangers
with chile verde, sour cream and salsa.
It's cold out there. It snows, then hails,
then rains. In here, it's crowded, and warm.