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]

Fathers' Day*

The kids and I called my dad last night (already Fathers' Day in India) while my sister was making him a "full English breakfast." Everyone was super excited and happy and talking over each other and couldn't hear very well. My dad legit couldn't hear us, I suspect 😞.

At and Nu took Big A brunch in bed and got him a couple of cans of the beer he likes and a very VSCO beer cozy. They said all they knew walking into the store was that the kind Big A likes had fish on the logo... they nailed it.

Pic: My one fancy nursery planter splurge didn't make it too long before it was colonized by a family of house sparrows in the most beautiful, mossy nest I've ever seen. But now the baby birds have flown and I am going to see if I can rejuvenate the planter.

* I'm going to punctuate it this way and not this.

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.