By Sylvia Plath
Overnight, very
Whitely, discreetly,
Very quietly
Our toes, our noses
Take hold on the loam,
Acquire the air.
Nobody sees us,
Stops us, betrays us;
The small grains make room.
Soft fists insist on
Heaving the needles,
The leafy bedding,
Even the paving.
Our hammers, our rams,
Earless and eyeless,
Perfectly voiceless,
Widen the crannies,
Shoulder through holes. We
Diet on water,
On crumbs of shadow,
Bland-mannered, asking
Little or nothing.
So many of us!
So many of us!
We are shelves, we are
Tables, we are meek,
We are edible,
Nudgers and shovers
In spite of ourselves.
Our kind multiplies:
We shall by morning
Inherit the earth.
Our foot's in the door.
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My Thursday was not as exciting as my Wednesday, though we had nice weather to walk to the beach -- we're supposed to have an atmospheric river arriving tomorrow, so a huge amount of rain. I got some chores done, some laundry folded, some Kraken read, some photos filed, and watched a hummingbird try to chase a pair of crows away from our feeder, which was so entertaining I forgot to take photos of that.
We ate dinner early so I could get on my usual Thursday chat group, then we watched this week's Ghosts, in which Thor has so many great lines -- "Take her now, and we watch, as Odin commands!" -- before finishing the miniseries of The City & the City, with which I take some issue because of changes from the book but they're not all bad, particularly when it comes to canon female characters. Seen on the Sammamish River Trail:
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