Two years

I always took delight in pulling the grapevines off the crab apple. Alas, no longer,

Two years

Since the grapevines

Were pulled off the crab apple

I thought I could

Pull them now

No

My beloved waited

For my call

As I sat

On the ground

Pulled me up

By my belt

Grass stains

On my knees

We laughed

Two years

From now

We’ll do it again.

We are more than weathered

Water in the bedroom.

We are weathered

Actually

More than weathered

There are two buckets

In the bedroom

Drip drip drip

Drip drip

Drip

Dri

P

D

R

I

p

Sleeping

Is an interesting

Venture

We are weathered

More that weathered.

Warm bones

We live with two cats, an old gray tabby and a young calico. When the tabby yowls, the calico makes sure to check on him. She is also the one who keeps the cat box clean.

The big gray tabby

On occasion

Finds his way

Upstairs

We need a ranch for him

As well.

Yesterday my beloved

Carried him downstairs

So he could be close

To food and water

And litter.

Then he climbed

Back to bed

In the living room.

His voice

Is still strong.

We hear him

Throughout

The house.

Now he sleeps

In the sun

It warms

His bones.

What will happen

Word is we will be getting some sort of new BCP in 2018. I wonder if the Eucharist will not be in the middle of the Book?

What will happen

If the psalms leave

The Book of Common Prayer?

No longer the rubrics

Which tell us

What to read

On what day

Of the month?

Will they still be numbered

As my first husband

Desired

So he knew

What to read

When?

Will they be there

At all?

Our home is filled with birds

In memory of Thomas Sadler Roberts

Our home is filled

With birds.

No surprise here.

Curlews and crows

Water birds

A loon

In the dining room

Never too many birds.

My great grandfather

Would be proud.

He knew the birds

Now replaced

By the Mall

Of America.

He knew the birds

Of Minnesota

Before the Metrodome

Was built.

Our home is filled

With birds.

We remember him.

Monopoly

Childhood memories

I was always the iron

My brother the race car.

We moved

At the same speed.

He usually bought

Board Walk

And Park Place

Put hotels everywhere

I moved more slowly

Did not pass Go

As often

I was the iron

My brother

The race car.

I do not remember

What piece

My sister had

Or the speed

She went

Or the number of houses

She built

Or how many times

She passed Go.

Nest

Nests are made from all kinds of things. I have never seen a wire nest.

We have not repaired

The screen.

The wires dangle

Odd angles.

Strange pieces hang.

The goldfinch has found

Wires

For her nest.

We wonder what kind

Of nest

This will be.

The goldfinch

Is delighted.

What wonder is this.

What eggs

Will this protect.

Today is my day

Today is a solitary day. We all need them. I may even pull some rhubarb.

It’s not quite cloudy

Today.

The sun goes in

And out

Sky is blue and white

And gray

Now the birds proclaim sun

The cats

Move with it

The way cats do.

Today is my day.

I will pull weeds

Clip extra mulberries

Decide who

To call in

To do the rest.

Today is my day.

I am glad.

Rescue

I am still processing my February "adventure." Many people had a part to play. I remember some of them. I do not remember others. 

The neighbor next door

Rescued me.

I remember only

It was a man

I do not know.

I went to the hospital

With sepsis

Hallucinated

Imaginary

Doctors.

In the end I remember

I might have died.

It seems

All the neighbors

Were called upon.

Of course

I do not remember

Which ones

Except the one friend

Who told me

I bumped myself

Down the stairs

In a stunning way.

I’m glad

Something

Was stunning.

Indecipherable

I am hung up on poetry being accessible. I know accessibility is probably in the mind and heart of the reader.

There are poets

Who write indecipherable

Poems.

They are often

Credited

In the annals

Of the Library of Congress

Or even beyond.

The poems

Do not echo

Anyone else’s

Experience.

I wish I understood

The accolades.

Alas

I do not.

Perhaps

I am not

Anyone else.

Rhubarb for free

My family would tease me about all the rhubarb in the freezer. I moved from making sauce, to freezing it for later. Now it's back there waiting.

There is rhubarb

Back there

I cannot harvest.

There is rhubarb

For anyone who loves

Rhubarb.

Come

I will make you

Iced tea

Lemonade

Sit a spell

Chat

Or not.

Take the rhubarb home

Make pie or sauce.

Rhubarb for free.

Ready to harvest.

Nine goats

I can picture the goats and the donkey, smiling.

Nine goats

And a miniature donkey

Are at work

In Pittsburgh.

They clear underbrush

From a local park.

Nine goats,

A miniature donkey.

They eat their way

Through the park.

I imagine they smile.

When they are done

There will be more land

To clear.

Nine goats

A donkey.

Then there will be more

To munch.

Shiva

Our thirty year old box turtle died this morning. We sit Shiva. We are sad. Goodbye Felix.

We sit Shiva

For Felix

The turtle who made it

To thirty

Mostly

On blueberries

Some dogfood

And recently

Red wigglers.

We sit Shiva

For Felix

Now dead.

It is right

To remember

To return

This feels odd. I know it's not just tea vs. coffee. The last major adventure in the hospital I gave up coffee because it was wretched hospital coffee...it hardly seemed worth it. Now we're back to coffee.

We still return.

How long will it take?

We drank tea

After cup

Of tea.

Now it’s back

To coffee.

We still return.

We do not know

How long

It will take

To return

To really

Return.

East to west

The last time we went to Europe I don't remember this particular difficulty. Yet, this time, here it is.

We practice the return.

Our body clocks

Are somewhere in Labrador

By now.

When they will arrive

In Chicago

Is too soon

To tell.

A friend tells us

It is always easier

Traveling east

Than traveling west.

We creep west.

We wait to return

Fully.

Lindisfarne

I realize I might have called this "tides" but it occurred to me I might want to call something else by that name. Since this is directly tied to the trip to Lindisfarne which spellcheck tells me is not a word, I figured it needed its own space. The island of Lindisfarne is beautiful, well worth another visit, and then another.

No one really lives

On Lindisfarne.

The tides go in,

The tides go out.

The tour buses arrive,

They leave

With the tides.

Still

No one really lives

On Lindisfarne,

Save perhaps the solitary fisherman

Or two,

The scone lady

And her husband,

The gardener.

The tides go in,

The tides go out.

The tour buses

Honor the schedule.

We hear of one lady

Left behind.

Still

The tides

Wait for no one.

This is the way

With tides.

Are we there yet?

This is not the first time in the course of this travail that I have asked the question. I suspect it will also not be the last.

He says

I’m doing better

But not better enough

To drop a medication.

When?

I ask

When?

He smiles and says

We’ll consider it

In four or five years.

I feel like the child

In the backseat

Of the car.

Are we there yet?

Are we there yet?

How about now?

Not yet.

Four years

Five years

A million years.

Are we there yet?

My kith, my kin

I did not write while in Europe. It seemed I would lose something if I did. I wanted to pay attention in a different way.

Europe had more stairs

But better bathrooms

It’s still amazing

The people I see

Everywhere

My kith

My kin

Wheelchairs

Walkers

Even somewhere

On the autism spectrum

Our brains

Our feet

Our lives

Our loves

Our cares

Our light

Our dark

Here we are

All of us

We walk in the sun

We walk by the light

Of the moon

Of the stars

With our kith

With our kin.

Company

Everywhere

Difference

Ah, cats. This is the first time the kitten has been without familiar human company for any stretch of time. The older cat knows "all will be well." He sleeps and eats until the next person arrives at the front door. He knows that person will adore him.

The kitten

Has just figured

She was abandoned

For two weeks.

She spent

The last two days

In cuddle mode.

Now

Out come the claws.

Now she races

Through the house,

Up and down

The stairs.

The older cat

Takes it

As it comes.

Food and water,

The occasional lap.

He sheds on

On whomever

Will allow him

A lap.

He craves attention

From whomever

Walks through

The front door.

No puffins

Home again. I am glad to be home. We are planning a closer trip to see puffins.

Back

In the blue chair

With the cats,

The familiar birds.

My beloved added

Three birds

To his life list

But alas

No puffins.

We shall have to

Try again.

We joke

That we take a vacation

Like this

Every ten years.

We will try for puffins

Next time,

In less than

Ten years.