work

September and the time to get back to work. Though often maligned as a negative thing, I personally love to work – especially if that work is something that sweeps me away and makes me oblivious to time and place – like writing often does.

Here are some lines from Marge Piercey’s poem “To be of use” in praise of workers:

The people I love best
jump into work head first...

I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience....

The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident....

Read entire poem

Today I work in the kitchen. Friends are coming to visit and I am making a lasagne dinner. My husband has done most of the cooking for the last while – and though I haven’t missed thinking up what to make for meals, I have missed those kitchen rhythms. Today I get them back. I will put on my harness – my apron – and dirty my hands with smear, crumble, chop, saute and bake!