Out shoveling pre-dawn in January I caught this shot in the strange light, a result of high winds, wet horizontal snow and rapidly falling temperatures.
I love to see the work of the Master Artist, a little temporal art to dazzle the eye.
It’s wonderful sometimes to look at a droplet reflecting the world as it hangs from a branch or clouds dyed orange in the sunset, these fleeting moments of beauty we are so privileged to see.
And then, of course, there is every person, each in the complexity of their construct, each capable of their own stunning transformations.
It could make one thankful to be here.
I am so grateful for the judges. Five poets are judging the 45 entries slam style, in rounds of 15 or so poems. We are a fifth of the way through Round 2, or almost halfway to completion. My spreadsheet is color coded to tell me what poem is with which judge, yellow, green, red, orange, blue – growing more colorful as the poems are assigned. I smile at the numerical reactions – commenting is discouraged – and the different styles of the judges, their likes and apparent dislikes. I have to say that although it is a lot of work, it’s fun, too.
The temporal door for the Eye On Life Poetry Contest is now closed for this year, but every time a door closes, somewhere a window opens. So the judging window opens and we begin the process of ranking our contestants so that we can send out our prizes. I am fortunate that I have such good friends to help me as I have come to know a good many of the poets who entered, and feel it would be difficult to remain totally unbiased as all of the contestants deserve.
Not that I will have no role. I will set the bar for Honorable Mentions so that I can publish the poems that I really like that are not chosen as prize winners by the other judges. That will be fun.
Not fun? Typing in the paper entries. But since most poets entered online this year, it won’t be so bad. There, there, Tom … and fingers.