What's so important, anyway?

no one understands...

Obviously this is a circumzenithal arc

Or at least that's what showed up 

when I assiduously googled 

"upside-down rainbow."

Taken on our evening walk by Nu.

It's caused by ice-crystals

in the atmosphere. Ulp.

_

It's Gotten Dark

It's nearing the end of September and I should have expected it. But I'm surprised by how dark it's gotten.

Also, it's Monday.

But I'm going to blame everything on how dark it's gotten.

It's why I needed to leave the door open to get dressed this morning and it shone on A's face in bed and he yelled at me and I yelled back and said his sleeping schedule was dysfunctional.

And the kids were still eating breakfast after I'd unloaded the dishwasher, made beds, made lunches, made eggs, tidied, got dressed (and yelled at) and I was mad.

And when I got to work, my Chair was in early and wanted to have a conversation with me. And the thing she wanted to talk about was awkward at first and then painful (for me).

And I worked obsessively in my windowless office for eight hours. About four hours in, I realized I was wearing blue paisley and gray, which is alright in theory, but was awful in the light.

Things got better once I got to the gas station: (a) made it just before the needle turned to empty (b) a red car pulled up beside me (c) the driver waved at me (d) after one too many seconds, I realized it was Big A (e) ended up smiling back at him (f) he pumped my gas (g) gave me a hug (h) I told him about my horrible work conversation (i) got hugged again (j) He took the grocery list off me.

And I got to go home and wheedle I-had-a-bad-day hugs from kids.

And they ate grilled cheese their dad made.

And I was excused from the "Poo-lympics" (picking up all the doggie poop in the grass).

I still have to work every waking minute on the thing my Chair talked about for the foreseeable future.

Unless there's an apocalypse.
_

Nuts

The oldest one is playing 

(saxophone) at an away game.

the littler ones spend the day 

jabbering, "joking," 

jabbering some more, 

making up crazy games, 

(one of which requires us 

to draw someone she's thinking of).

When I tell him, At smirks and asks,

"Do you appreciate me now?"

Always do; always have.

Always will.

_

Gathering

In some evolved vegan way

these plants might be animal;

the undersides of their leaves--

pale and vulnerable underbellies,

the amused puckering of the spines

then the bright stare of their stamen.

I search for the taut bright, 

the ovoid shapes that nest  

amongst roots, soil, leaves. 

Each tomato's jewel-red slope

finds the curve of my warm palm,

believes that it wants to come home.

Manifesto

We'll have to tell all our small, silly jokes
to save us one final time and well.

And fight the sour syllables of silence
friends at the bottom of the well.

Smile--like thoughts gods had briefly
fall on our knees, count seasons.

The road spreads fluorescent
of course, we repeat in patient panic

reasons fistful by fistful;
thoughts dazzling out of our heads.

Re-Homing Children

How incredibly dangerous it is to be a child.

This Reuters investigative report about "re-homing" adopted children with no oversight via law enforcement or child welfare agencies is frightening, bleak, and fucking... breaks... my... heart.

_