Thursday, December 19, 2019

Socks

I have strong feelings about socks
how they should be rolled & arranged
tightly enough, one sock roll pressed
next to another so they don’t unroll
bright colors against the yellow lid
currently serving as their shelf — six
yellow lids topping six black plastic bins
arranged to form a broad-based U
against the interior walls of my closet
shelving at shin-level for folded clothes
I wear most often — turtlenecks, tees,
tights, shorts, pajamas, undies, socks
arrays of bright colors colliding, each
crying, Please, please, choose me!

Friday, December 13, 2019

Delight


Some days I think of blowing off Greek, keeping the keyboard  set to English — I must go on, I can’t go on, not about Greek — five great egrets, no, six, stand at attention in front of my next-door neighbor’s seawall. About the same number of cormorants lift out of the pond into shallow air & drop back down again, dive. Nick the naturalist laughs at cormorants’ attempts to fly. Look at them! he cries, They thrash, they flog, they barely clear the water!

While brushing my teeth I saw a great blue heron on my dock, two great egrets in the shallows, four white gulls overhead, two cormorants swimming beyond the dock, their heads horizontal, salt water swirling around them. Dive. Songbirds on the gutters, I in my chair, watch the show. 

I sip hot coffee. I should be wheeling the trash barrel out front. The washing machine grunts. Small birds swoop across my vision, east to west across the back yard. Coffee such an odd delight, acrid, softened by half & half. A washer-load of water screws itself down the drain.

I’m doing laundry mostly because the dishwasher failed yesterday, proving to myself that the washing machine still works, as if appliances were flowers fading all at the same time. The dishwasher failed by not responding to the START button — circuit breaker not thrown, plug & outlet unreachable behind the built-in machine. 

Last night in two sessions I hand-washed the load of dishes, set them to dry, half in the dishrack, half in the machine. I’ll need a dishpan. Who says I need a new dishwasher? I have one, her name is Carol. The smooth warm surface of a clean plate is a delight.

Tuesday, December 10, 2019

Theosophy

I wondered why the gods fought each other
gods who had godly powers to fly, to magic, to morph
entrusted with crucial tasks — raising & lowering
the sun, nourishing crops, managing winds —
yet they angered & schemed, stymied & punished
seduced mortals, spoiled the lives of half-breeds
brutes obsessed with passion, mad for power
small minds clad in sumptuous panoply, models for
Wizard of Oz, unmasked by sensible Dorothy

Wednesday, December 4, 2019

Yes, they're gone

the noisy loving clump of them — instant
solitude shoulders in, a single
cup of coffee instead of a pot, cat
in my armpit instead of traipsing here to
there angling for treats — their idea
of moving their life somewhere close
to me — a future possibility so dear
it’s space for humming bees — sixpacks
of ale Ben left, corn chips & chocolate bars
I tucked into Tova’s satchel — leftover
roasted yam & so many ribs
I try to consume before they go by —
barrels full of empties, kayaks stowed
three beds bare until next time