at the end of May

dismay

May seemed a forever recovery 

over bits of grass--bits of glass

mayhem

Can it really be June tomorrow?

Will the year make its amends?

maybe

Growing long like summer time

the year fills out in its maturity

mayday

hold my hands as songs get longer 

nothing but excitement--and fear

--maya

the kind lodged between my ribs 

gasping: I care, I care--do you?

____________________________

Pic: Wisteria Square #MSU

Spring farewell

footsteps scatter oracular

one foot then another

grow louder than water

I bless the bees, the blooms

the leaves like hearts

sound, reverberating 

spring is a gamble, my friend

some years fruit, beautiful

others empty and quiet

I see my own fate in these lines

of light, denial, the tunnel 

curving, coming up for air

Pic: Red Cedar River this morning.

full circle/circle of love

The newly wed baby cousin was coming to lunch/linner today. As I finished cooking one set of dishes, it made me smile because I had used the pots and pans her parents had gifted me when I got married. 

I took this picture to send to her mom, and we've been calling it the full circle/circle of love because I happened to be listening the Sunday Puzzle on the radio, and it's kind of like this challenge?

An otherwise quiet day--apart from that one elaborate meal--I didn't get much done. (And that's ok!)

all empty and all full

The city has emptied out--what with the end of the MSU semester, graduating students, and the long Memorial Day weekend ahead of us. 

I was on my own for dinner tonight, so after I fed Scout and Huck, I had a whole column of pistachio baklava and about half of a small watermelon. 

I regret nothing.

Pic: The largest solar carport in North America had just three parked cars on this morning's walk with L. 

even greener

I play the laptop's keyboard like a piano 

and also a drum, beating without pain

for the sunlight spreading thin as butter

for the dream in which no one can die  

[fragment]

Pic: Baker Woods with L

after this ending another ending

after this ending another ending
we only want so little
we're given even less 

after this ending another ending

plans flaking hope

escape again

after this ending find another story

another beginning 

--start again

after this beginning another beginning

another erasure

a do over 

after that ending yet another ending

dawns hide in the night

in the gallop of sleep 

noted

My calendar said I had RSVPed 'yes' to the annual Child Advocacy luncheon, so I went. 

I did not know that I would be getting an award. (I guess that's why my director had insisted I be there?)

I did not know that I would be the only person there who was masked. (Maybe because people were expecting to unmask before eating anyway?)

Everything still feels a little unreal.