Thanksgiving: Animals
A Little Noticing
In our little yard today I spied
a red-mustached flicker
hammering away at the powerline pole
and the hole
a male house sparrow with only
half a beard
(out-of-breeding-season plumage)
two wildly different grasshoppers and
a velvet-black jumping spider
in and out of the bed.
Who knows how many other souls
I failed to find
and
what they meant to say,
blessed hearts beating
a wall away from mine
living our own loops
hiding deep in our snug holes.
never enough time
seconds flash by like
bullet trains
possibilities closed off
for what feels like forever
choosing choosing choosing
living with a lump in my throat
and an eye on the sweep
of the second hand
barely time to gather the beloveds
in a hug
and all this in a time
when our past life has slowed
to the mere vibration of
a solid
its crystal lattice holding space
for us to do something
meaningful
deliberate
intentional
with time now
and still it’s not enough
at least I haven’t made it be enough
to be able to rest
doubt
typing up the manuscript
one moment it’s
wow!
next minute I hear internal paper crumpling
along with my confidence
is it any good?
does it have any teeth
any heart
any tears?
(I’m decidedly uninterested in brains)
sometimes I feel like
I’m removing my insides
polishing them up
artfully plating them for consumption
then nervously waiting for them
to be sent back to the kitchen
other times I feel
I’m just spinning candy floss
making a big sweet pastel globe
of fluffy nothingness
good on the tongue
but nothing to bite into
nothing to stick to your bones
and keep you going
when you’re out chopping wood
I don’t know
what the world wants
from what I can do
all I can do is trust
keep learning and growing wiser
keep giving what I manage to make
and take pleasure watching
my work leave my hands
not worrying so much
about where it comes to rest
morning eggs
you never know
how the world may delight you next
today it’s the two
still-warm eggs
plucked from the coop
while still fired
with the heat
of being inside
nestled against a beating heart
now outside
for all to appreciate
their smooth mysterious perfection
(each utterly different)
biased confession
the Implicit Association Test
objectively states
Your responses suggested a strong automatic association for Asians with animals and whites with humans.
horror shame embarrassment disappointment blame
(the lousy line drawings
my nodding-off self)
there is no kind way
to write these wretched words
no phrase to adequately apologize
to my friends who are Asian
for the othering my mind
unconsciously mindlessly may do
the damage I unwittingly inflict daily
including inside this very line in my confession
no way to obtain absolution
no penance that will offset the harm
my unwanted bias wreaks
on all the beloved human animals
I breathe with today
absence limits
while on the Zoom
I see him through the window
pouting
elbows right angles
palms pushing the sky
after the laptop snaps shut
he bursts in
bellowing his high-pitched objections
until I wrap my arm around him
ruffle his hair
remind him how much he means
ask how I can help
and
what does he need?
then he relents
admits he needs nothing
I just was absent too long
that toddler abides
who insistently demanded
Mommy…
anytime I pressed the rectangle of phone
to my curlicue of ear
while he tried to drown out the sounds
of any other needs
to reserve some space
for whatever might bubble up
between his shoulder blades
oh he needs something alright
just like me
at the lake
people bake
in this scene out of Kansas
or Nebraska
ski counterclockwise
the sign reminds
so the boats corkscrew around
this finite refreshment
it’s Saturday
and one after another
the pickups back to ramp
deposit the underclad bodies
perched on beached boats
set them floating toward Sunday
loud music and beer buoying them along
while an uncertain dog
paces the deck
and a gaping fish head
rots on the shore
introvert curb-appeal
she wants to see out
but not let them see in
a one-way yard
like aviator glasses
or monitored mirrors
she wants community
and to be left to her own devices
to be missed
and to slip through the scene
unseen
she tells them
cut the shrub blocking the window
then thinks better of it
when the job’s half done
she wants to notice
unnoticed
track
without leaving her own prints
she’s like Janus or Gemini
of two opposing minds
hungry for connection
and sated on her own
yard plans
retreat
sanctuary
haven
room for play
reflection
entertaining
welcoming to people
wildlife
plants
types of space:
eating
playing
reading
soaking
things to accommodate:
children
chickens
birds
extended family
things to maximize:
shade
peace
privacy
beauty
desire to be outdoors
inspiration:
Giverny
Japanese gardens
Lauren Springer Ogden
Nepenthe
Kimmerjae
David Austin
Michal Graber
wish list:
ofuro
chicken coop/run
waterfall/fountain
stream
pond
dining shelter
outdoor shower
nooks
shade
as we grow older
we grow rooted
let us make a place
we desire to stay
egg gathering
put your hand
deep into the dark
feel around
for something smooth
draw back out
cradling a warm sphere
made of echoing rings
little wondrous worlds
rich nourishment
to fuel your waking
