Once the Muses belonged to men

A poem for common ground

Common Ground Cows 2016

Day 5 of 30 Days of Poetry, Autumn 2024

Once the Muses belonged to men:
round, supple impulses
upholding the call 
of Connerys,
of Darwins, 
of Papa, of Zeus.
Boys whose feet’d 
stay stuck right there
in mundanity 
without
soft summonings
lonely undulations
the drunken lyre.

But as with all 
unreliably narrated tales 
eventually 
foundations crumble.
Premise disintegrates.
The hourglass rolls away. 
A muse no more
goddess than a pizza
woman than a wombat
damsel than a derivative.

Ask a woman rather
about her Muse and
she may say:
a thundering wind
a fog heavy morn
a cat’s trill
a glass lake
a curve in the road
a measure of space
to walk into
another day, 
awake and able
to sing, to dance,
with no one watching.

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Today is Day 5 of 30 Days of Poetry, Autumn 2024. Today’s word(s) “The Muses” was offered to me by my friend, Ellen.

Originally I tried to write a traditional ode about the Greek nine muses and I stalled out. Then I went to mow the lawn and the first line and “the Connerys” came to me while mowing.

Ellen teaches orchestra to elementary students in Connecticut and spends her summers in Northern Maine. Thanks Ellen!