turn, turn, turn

I carry my words across continents

with their accidents, impermanence

bees feverish in the heat of their sting

do things so sweetly distant from pain 

a bird cleans its beak on moss again

and I try not to scare them into flight

we're "ok;" alighting on what it takes 

to make the planet spin another day

[Pic: MSU Horticultural Garden; I love this bed, which seems so effortless.]

Summer again

 

Finally, another summer day. I took advantage of our first no-rain day in over a week to putter around the garden and prep for a picnic with Nu and AC--a wonderful former student who babysat Nu years ago. I was so surprised to learn that AC is turning 30. They grow up so soon!

One of this year's WGS guest speakers (KH) mentioned how they were doing social work because as a WGS student they'd been inspired by AC's presentation as a guest speaker--I loved that so much and enjoyed passing it on to AC. 

This last year has been tough.

[Pic: Robin with cherries]

cloudburst

There's not much to do 
in the rain, today seems 

so small, so tight, blue...

these trees, drip, shake

drops of rain off--as if 

they're puppies. I ache... 

from rain. I know I want

sunshine in clusters, stars 

writing days in happy font...

instead here's a slight salute 

--to bent sky, clasped desires,

clouds heave, heavy in pursuit 

[Pic: Made it to Ted Black Woods with L this morning--before the downpour.)

feeling--recursive

I take the photos in this family
--every time I send one 
to you, sister

you demand to know where I am.
I'm behind the camera,
I travel back

with the sticky facts of tenderness.
What could ever replace  
you reminding me 

to burn like fire, like diamonds
the beloved coal of my body 
hybrid, haptic, whole

[Pic: An indoors kind of day; the kids have to delink settler colonialism and Catan for me every time.]

weather or not

Rain again today; lots of it! But we snuck some other stuff in there as well. 

Met up with DD and TD who are visiting Lansing after 15 months for a walk outside and a catch up. 

Pride Parade was rained out, but the kids and I went to Salus Center's open house and my gay babies got some merch to supplement the stuff they got at our in-home pre-Pride party yesterday. 

I made "leftover rice" for dinner (rice from Indian takeout; bean and corn salsa + tomato, cilantro, and onion salsa from our pre-Pride-party's "rainbow nachos;" veggie sausage, seasoned potatoes, frozen veggies, a pinch of garam masala, and a couple of teaspoons of ghee... voila).

Then the weather alert system started going off on the radio and our phones, and tornado sirens started up too, so we all trooped into the basement (Scout and Huck anxious, Big A needing to sleep before work) for an hour and half of weather-mandated family time 😅😂.

[Pic: We found this highly apropos duo of national flags outside Salus! My parents were so delighted by this photo 😇.]

 

"The Chicken Daddy"

"The Chicken Daddy" is Big A's name for Nu who spends inordinate amounts of time just doting on the six chicks they got with L. I love seeing how proud and patient they are with the cheepers. 

But they don't want to name any chicks yet because they "don't want to get too attached." That's too much reality for me.

The all-day and all-week rain has been unreal and disappointing. I'm nothing if not stubborn, however, so I've been sitting in the swing reading, drinking lemonades, and eating cherries anyway. 

Where's Mama?: A Story in Three Parts

 

if it wasn't already clear...

 

Jackie Sumell's "A Solitary Greenhouse" asks us to imagine a world without prisons. The link has better photos and text.

From a walk through Beal Gardens.

old school laughter

to sit down with strangers talking talking
talking, the sun stunning in its brilliance 

like our laughter, sounding like we never 

heard of hurt, happy as an escaped key

I start, you finish, then we restart again  

the sisters say: "quiet now, settle down"

they turn their backs, snort their grace

and then we're off on one more round... 

odd how though it's made only of sound

laughter never loses its meaning--or place

[Pic: Waterlilies at MSU Radiology Gardens]

I said

a letter seems only an island of sound 

till it has found bridges and isthmuses 

of words and meaning

we're at this crossing to talk some more--

soaring through side streets and alleys 

where we are all children

come back, connect, read me generously

correct, on this towpath of peace, release

my complaint--always me

[Pic: cobwebs-bridge-Red Cedar River]

shadow friends

When cousin P and I had a marathon chat last week, she lamented how all the people who were so amazing to us when we came to the U.S. as grad students: the kind, generous, progressive folks--who fed us, acclimated us, radicalized us--seem to have disappeared. 

Not true, I said--thinking of L--I walk with one of them almost everyday. 

[Pic: L and I being silly with our shadows in the Red Cedar on Farm Lane yesterday.]

starting summer

No working stove yet, but I'm getting quite good at making do with L's electric skillet... I might even be thinking of getting one. Luckily, picnic-style food works great right now.

Finally got the kids' to share their summer fun lists. After weeks of begging 🤨. Maybe that's more of a "me" thing?

Lots of other little traditions are making their way into our lives. At, for instance, will share a reading and then schedule a long walk to talk about it. This happened quite organically, and I LOVE it. Right now he has me reading Shawn Wallace's The Designated Mourner. 

complications

Yes... no... I don't know... yet
how to take things for granted
let's say we're sort of Egyptian 

in all the ways we are learning 

to prepare--not for life--but death 

I hold for friends who have left 

homelands... once upon a time
with untold pasts, fear for those   

whose names change every day,

who clasp peace so hard--it splits

[Pic: Ely Woods with L this morning]

cenotaph

For you're breathy as a kettle, 
in all of this ennui, this outrage
yet we sit blandly where people 
were dead--had been for ages.

We are the ones who are alleged 

to dust off the drifting ash before 
standoff, feel around for the edge 

of backlash, its puny incoherence.

But we listen; learning now how
all news is unbearable, how it all

allows us to be portals standing

impatient, indifferent, in disgrace.

mixed

Had a welcome breakthrough on a work project and managed to meet a proposal deadline one whole day ahead of deadline.

Took a nap. Woke up because of a horrifying moment in a post-apocalyptic-style dream (someone had tumbled down some stairs because I bumped them and when I went to check on them, I was captured and they started pulling on my clothes... also, my dad was supposed to help me keep watch, but he fell asleep and didn't hear me when I was shouting for help).

I'd planned a "Summer Celebration" to celebrate the end of Nu's 8th grade year.... it literally got rained on after we set the picnic table. 

Ah well, watermelon tastes almost as good indoors too. 

third wave

A lovely start to the day, going up the riverwalk with L... Then a chat with my sister who said that a third wave is expected in India by the end of the year... After that, everything felt very off for the rest of the day. 

I made a summer soup for dinner in the InstantPot (stove's still not working), but left everyone to their own devices and put myself to bed with a bar of chocolate.

gaze

I begin to unpin guilt like it's hair
hold my own hand as it trembles
a stare still lies a bit out of reach
grows into a new part of my body

my body goes old young indifferent
time folding across like a clock-face 
and hands clap for what comes next 
texting alien syllables from my name

analog clock, digital face, so partial

to opening my heart all the way like

I once said I would in a secret place

we know where it stays dark all night

a two-hike kinda day

I needed TWO hikes today.  

First was the usual one with L, getting to the MSU gardens just as the sun was beginning to skim the tops of the waterlilies and set off the frogs like blobby, plopping fireworks. 

Later, I managed to somehow ruin the stove when some lentils boiled over. Now I wouldn't be able to make the raw mango dal, a summer staple from my childhood. I made do by microwaving the chunks of mango and adding it to some canned cannellini beans. A heaping spoonful of turmeric, the tadka I'd made earlier, and a good potato masher... and I could imagine it came from a kitchen long, long ago untouched by canned beans, a potato masher, or a microwave. L showed up like a lifesaver bearing an electric skillet she had in her basement, and I used it to make aloo parathas later. 

I'm glad I made it to Ted Black Woods with BS after all that. The woods were lovely and deep--as was talking to B. I needed that.

(L doesn't mask outdoors, B does; I am ok taking my cues from whatever my companions are comfortable with now.)

what's up

Behind me, Nu and L are intently listening to our neighbors give them a crash course in raising chickens. I guess what's up... really is chicken butt (and a significant amount of chicken poop). 

It seems like a A LOT of work, but Nu and L are determined to make it work. I've already politely excused myself from from mucking out the chicken coop, which will live in L's yard. I guess I'd feed the little babies whenever there's no one else to do it. 🐣🐥

"food for thought"

 

The wonderful ladies of "Food for Thought Book Club" down by the Red Cedar River in LB's backyard...

Vaccinated, unmasked, outdoors. 

I handled it.

I *enjoyed* it.

I'd forgotten how lovely communal joy can feel...