Sonnenizio on a Line from Yeats by Catherine Rogers

Sonnenizio on a Line from Yeats

An aged man is but a paltry thing.
An aged woman, on the other hand,
Has no time to be paltry like her man.
She’s coaxing fire to make the kettle sing.

She fries the sausages and sets the forks.
He sighs his own obituary, then dozes,
Dreaming of imperishable roses.
Real roses must be pruned. She gets to work.

The old man has his legacy to tend;
He mourns his fading powers with aching heart.
Her hands ache with arthritis, but she’s smart
And takes an aspirin; she has socks to mend.

Byzantine sage, enough of fiery gold!
The real trick’s being too busy to get old.

by Catherine Rogers

Editor’s Note: Feminism isn’t always loud and badass. Sometimes it’s spoken with a quiet voice, while quiet hands mend this arthritic world.

Song by Catherine Rogers

Song

“Marry me,” said the river.
“I never will,” said she,
“For you’d shut me up
in a golden boat
and carry me out to sea.”

“Marry me,” said the salmon
as he climbed his rocky stair.
“Oh, no,” said she,
“For my golden boat
will never sail up there.”

“Marry me,” said the black bear
as he eyed her greedily.
“Oh, no,” said the girl
with the rainbow sides,
“For you shall have none of me.”

So she built her house by the river,
using her witch’s art,
of the water’s song
and the salmon’s flash
and the black bear’s greedy heart.

by Catherine Rogers

Editor’s Note: These lines have the intonation and whimsy of a children’s poem, yet an undertow of a more adult nature pulls the reader below the rhyme and meter and into a more ominous landscape.