water leads water how it desires
leaf leads leaf then devours
my thoughts a space of ache
like an animal and surrenders
now desperate where I marvel
with promises at your name
Yet apparently, it didn't stop people from watching the panel discussion as though it were a prize fight at the MUN House (per At). If I look amused in the top right corner it's because At was asking some cleverly self-deprecating question online. The corner of the laptop abutting the screen is his! Togetherness! Yay!
(OMG, I love that fellow. I have to admit, I lost all professional composure when a late arrival rehashed the "statues are history" tack in Q&A and At's deadpan riposte on the event chat was: "I got my history major by staring at a bunch of statues.")
Dussehra is one of the many opportunities to renew and reset in the Hindu annual calendar. And I spent yesterday hopeful for all kinds of pandemic and election magic.
Today I quietly panicked in the car on my way home from teaching and made a list of things we'll need to stock up on. (Not because I anticipate shortages, but I DO NOT WANT to be out there.)
L and I have been a bit performative and obnoxious with our mask reminders lately. But I think I made L a bit upset with me (haha).
We met a big black bear of a standard golden doodle, and I fawned over the happy, tongue-lolling darling (from a distance). After puppy and human had passed us, L asked me archly if I'd noticed that the puppy's human wasn't wearing their mask.
(Big A has turned off the wifi for some maintenance, so I can't check online, but there's no squiggly red line so at least it's a word? If "greening" is a Spring time word, "golding" ought to be an Autumn word!)
Anyway, I feel "golding" best describes both the turn of the woods and my delight.
And apropos of yesterday, I want to remember how the thought of going to the interview without seeing L made me so panicky... L is everything I imagined the USA to be, and I'm lucky the universe brought me to her in 2016, the most disconsolate point of my American dream.
When we returned home, LB and TB brought over apple pie with "USA" pricked into it... We were all crying in the driveway, and L said the NYT said it was ok to hug, so could we hug? But I'm just around so many people every day, I didn't think it would be good for her.
The very kind agent said the swearing-in wasn't likely to be before the election. But MI has same-day registration, and a girl can hope.
Every night quakes lightly
--like childhood's laughter.
Quick, give me a new thing
to see--yes, you, so beautiful
to me. America,
Earthquake dreams, deadlines, fears, news, OMG.
But the memory of a snuggle with this scaly giant yesterday, the card and chocolate-chip cookies BS dropped off, and the proliferating heart emojis via text will keep me going...
But look at this beauty, LB and TB in the distance, and Nu and Big A further down the street fast asleep in their beds... (not pictured!!)
Time to go back and give it another go!
So I walked over to At's (I'd just been thinking I hadn't seen him since Nu's birthday... and writing that I realize it's been less than a week, but it has been a long week!). He tried the door too, but nothing. So we made the call, and Big A got on the road to bring me the spare key, Nu in tow since it was dark and I didn't want Nu to be home by themselves. (Big A initially demurred about having to drive all the way, and I was instantly mad thinking about all the times I drove into NYC with little At and Baby Nu to get him after a late shift at Bellevue. But he quickly did the right thing, and no one got yelled at. Ha.)
So an hour till reinforcements arrived, and my sweet At offered to feed and water me and sit with me on the MUN House porch (outsiders aren't allowed into student housing to minimize Covid exposure) to keep me company. But I was too keyed up, so I asked if we could walk around, and borrowed some socks from At, and we did. I kept telling him he should go back to work on the delayed deadlines and midterm extensions, but we kept walking and talking, and then Nu and Big A were there, and there was a teensy family reunion in the Heritage Parking Lot.
From any direction
I try to meet you,
you greet me.
We hold hands,
"la biss" kiss-
There was a time when all
I had to do was simply turn
if I wanted to see you or play.
Do you ever yearn for when
we were fed from just one
plate--no yours, no mine?
To sleep together, curling like
vines? Discuss how parting
our twin beds, sending them
to opposite walls was painful
(almost as if conjoined twins
beginning surgery, separation).
My room now--though bright
feels dim and scribbled over,
continents and years crawl
over--what I fear--were last
visits. Lost keys, lost locks,
oh--the stitches come loose.
If I am not an island,
how can I swim to you?
I am now just a body
of water surging,
my eyes growing
round as our earth.
I am come to an age with
endings coiled inside me.
The pandemic's parting gift,
a gift of parting, is the empty
vision unfolding, trying to return
to decisions I made decades ago.
hours are not the apocalypse
I search their mists and dusts
composting fair warnings
I have searched the horizon
where sun blinks
this day into some montage
*Extra Huckie hugs*
I told my dream to Nu and we marched up to Big A and informed him that we needed a third puppy.
(I love how my brain braids things--I wonder if "Hank" is because I spent time with JL's "Henry" last weekend and "Hank" is a form of "Henry" but sounds a bit like "Huck?")