FAULTS

They came to tell your faults to me,
They named them over one by one;
I laughed aloud when they were done,
I knew them all so well before, --
Oh, they were blind, too blind to see
Your faults had made me love you more.
-Sara Teasdale

The ones I love most, I love not in spite of their faults, but even more for their faults.

It's icy here today....city is pretty much shut down! But I'm at my folks place with all of my livestock, cat included. Mary and Dean flew in from Alaska to get a checkup on the baby from her home doctor (all is well).

I'm enjoying this time at home. I'm getting stuff done and I have lots of people and animals I love just chillin' with me.

I'm going to start posting poetry on my blog. Don't worry, not my own right now. Poetry is a form of writing that most young Americans don't pay any attention to. Poetry can articulate your feelings in a unique way. I start with a Carl Sandburg poem. It'd be great if anyone wants to comment on their thoughts about poems as I post them...if not, just enjoy...

AT A WINDOW
Give me hunger,
O you gods that sit and give
The world its orders.
Give me hunger, pain and want,
Shut me out with shame and failure
From your doors of gold and fame,
Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger!

But leave me a little love,
A voice to speak to me in the day end,
A hand to touch me in the dark room
Breaking the long loneliness.
In the dusk of day-shapes
Blurring the sunset,
One little wandering, western star
Thrust out from the changing shores of shadow.
Let me go to the window,
Watch there the day-shapes of dusk
And wait and know the coming
Of a little love.

Carl Sandburg