Tuesday, July 20, 2021

Monday, July 19, 2021

beyond

 

Family trip to Detroit today for the Beyond Van Gogh exhibition. It was trippy and magical.
The kids shared a Dr. Who episode featuring VVG, and perhaps that's why I found myself squeezing Big A's hand and tearing up in the immersive hall as all the beautiful brushstrokes began to swirl around me. 

Sunday, July 18, 2021

like an old-fashioned riddle

I tally ego on the rosary of my body
count the worry beads of desire
sum my abacus of need

my small silence inside your eternity
my sky inside your horizon
is watching us recede

as I exchange thoughts for doubts
I wonder if you can hear them;
I think you'd concede 

that you pull me along, in undertow--
not caring for my suffering--
until you have me freed

Saturday, July 17, 2021

building


A normal kind of day--normal chores, normal outings.

Went to check on the Arboretum's yearly peacock display with L before the rest of the family woke up. I love the purple spikes they've added to the begonias this year. 

And yes, it's syllabus building time again.

Friday, July 16, 2021

three in a row


Scout, Huck, and I hosted bookclub while Big A, At, and Nu did their own thing. I'd planned to have a garden party, but rain was in the forecast and mosquitoes were out in force, so I moved it indoors. And just like that we had our first indoors party since the pandemic started.

Here, Huck, Scout, and I (L to R) are spooning in blissed-out collapse after dinner.

[Pic by Nu, reflected in the glass door.]

Thursday, July 15, 2021

"look for the helpers"




 I had so much help yesterday:


from the scummy

Nu skimming off pond scum








to the yummy 

At making a strawberry, arugula, feta salad

Wednesday, July 14, 2021

unpronounceable

I have taken these photos
no one will be looking at  
I have repeated my sights
until emptied of meaning

each one special as a child:
emotions--a trembling skin 
old memories--pause at will, 
a flip-book I cannot control

I have buried the bad sounds,
you can't say them anymore
soon I will be lost, exploring,
then unravel love for myself

I can announce to strangers
that I survived, can say I am
renewed, though I still carry  
this ventriloquist's act of you

love so ordinary

you have to shut your eyes to see it that's when the day goes dark running like a scar seaming  into something close I stop, blind as a ...