Friday, May 29, 2009

Have loved this poem for decades


Suddenly this defeat.
This rain.
The blues gone gray
And the browns gone gray
And yellow
A terrible amber.
In the cold streets
Your warm body.
In whatever room
Your warm body.
Among all the people
Your absence
The people who are always
Not you.

I have been easy with trees
Too long.
Too familiar with mountains.
Joy has been a habit.
This rain.

-Jack Gilbert

Turning Sorrows into Flowers

I have just discovered paper that has wildflower seeds embedded in it. Weeks after you plant the paper, flowers appear. It's a wee bit expensive. It's sold by the sheet and it can cost anywhere from $2.70 a sheet on up to $10. I've decided to make my next journal out of this paper and use it to write about things I want to change but can't, secret sorrows, things I'm ashamed of, things I need to let go of, etc. and then plant it, page by page until the whole thing is given over entirely to the open field.

Thursday, May 28, 2009


When I was a kid, my nickname was Kiki. I suspect that Kiwi would have made more sense.
Nocturnal, shy. . .
This is a little Kiwi from my journal. . .


Just days ago, the temperature was in the middle 90s. Now, 47 degrees --
cold, wet weather. So I've started a list.

Reasons to Love the Rain:
(a few excerpts)
Because it is the first true lullaby a child remembers.
Because even if you are stranded thousands of miles
inland, the rain never fails to bring you news of the sea.
Because no one remembers your childhood more clearly
than the rain.
Because everyone believes the Doctors who say that blood
runs through our veins but what really keeps us alive
is the rain, after it has married the just opened
petals of the peony.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

From that woman
on the beach, dusk pours out
across the evening waves.

The bridge from this life to the next. . .
I love the way the camera gets me out of the house, helps me to pay attention to whatis going on around me. Sunset, for instance, casting such long tree shadows. The way the sky changes color as twilight grows deeper.
This is the second day of open poppies. I went out to take a walk just before dusk and
caught the last of the western sun behind the flowers -- trying to woo them away
with its gold gold gold. They stayed put, natch. And oh, how beautiful! And just a little
later on the walk, talked to the woman down the street who has a large pond in her front yard, full of koi or carp, not sure, but many of them poppy-colored. The pond is leaking
and the woman isn't sure where the leak is. She goes out late at night with a flashlight
to make sure the fish have enough pond left to last until morning.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Note to the picture below. It looks like Brownie is in jail. But he actually in a gigantic pet carrier that could easily hold a collie or a boxer or, for that matter, me. And there are branches and leaves to play in. Fresh water, etc. Plenty of room to have a good squirrel life while growing up!
Soon it will be time to put my rowboat into the Piscataqua River. In the meantime, I've taken my four jumbo sized squirrels up to the Center where they'll be weaned and released. I still have the two smallest ones. This is Brownie (we're definitely NOT supposed to name them -- the intention is to keep them as wild as possible) who has entirely won my heart. He's the cutest little cuss. . .soft as dandelion fluff and an excellent curtain climber!