Congrats!

I knew every answer on every row,

filling in each word quickly, with each

one complete, more and more excited

and hopeful that I would know the next.

and I did, I did, the last word filled in,

the timer dinged and I was congratulated!

I basked in my glory.

Sew it up

sure 

I can sew up a custom bag

in an irregular shape from who-knows-what

fabric on a machine that I have not used in years.

sure

sure, I can do that by next week

in time for your trip, a little perfect bag

nestled in the gap of the bike frame, 

but 

how does one sew a zipper,

or a closed volume

who knows

sure, I can do that.

and I did. 

Les amoureux

they were married today.

the family of the bride having received "la dote",

les amoureux are together, finally.

resplendent in white,

I do not understand their way,

the dowry, the family arrangements,

the seeming purchase of the bride,

the joining of families with the transfer of money.  

I do understand love, and what obstacles

will be overcome to be together.

they are together now

I wish them well.

Cake and Howling

at 8 p.m. the howling started

(the same time we saluted the health care workers months ago)

and now, we howl, because

that's what we do, to each other,

tonight

we heard in the howl a call for cake

to celebrate this new life.

Isaac.

and there were others, too,

Michael and Kim holding their two...

a grandmother, two dogs, mothers

and fathers, singles, a gay couple,

a black woman who works at Google,

all eyes, though, were on baby Isaac,

the newest wonder in the world. 

Old friends

OK, a few grey hairs,  mine hidden

(under catalonia brown hair color)

(men don't do such things),

he drinks a 6 oz beer while I have nursed

16 ounces, waiting, with my novel in hand,

moving from table to table to escape 

the sun.  So many years ago,

we would have been lulled to sleep

by the steady rocking of the train hurtling

across endless plains, if it were not for 

me being a 16 year old girl flirting with 

a nice boy

This boy, slightly greying, but with

the same smile, the same lovely way

of being in the world.

Lil' Darlin' Mira

I miss our time on the floor,

no one in the world but her and me,

she pulls herself to the window and 

looks out at the world, pointing to 

passing dogs, crowing in delight.

such an intimate world back then,

but it had to end, the bigger world

was beckoning,

cars and dancing, other little people,

places to go, things to see,

my dresser drawer, overflowing with

such things as Instant-Pot gaskets (once

wonderful necklaces), shoelaces and 

pieces of cardboard,

once a treasure trove of fascination 

waits for Owen.  

A bin for dirty dishes

Twenty-five years ago, 

I set marker to bin to notify said Karen

that she had her dishes, and she had to do them.

Or eat from the pot.

No more leaving dishes for her bedraggled 

mother, just in from work, a commute, a quick shop,

cooking, collapsing.

I still have that dishpan, aphids currently floating

peacefully on the surface of the water,

having been squished off the stem of a milkweed

waiting to be planted.  

I'm thinking of relabeling it "Stephen's dirty dishes"

and to be fair, I'll have my own.

I want a drink

I'm ready for a drink

the delta variant is decimating the country

woe to those who are vaccine-hesitant.

even scary for the vaccinated.

I thought we were done with this,

the masks collected dust for a month or two,

we smiled into each other's eyes.

I'd like to drink to "no more masks"

but it's not time yet, so I will drink to

this being over soon, to being able 

to hug, to laugh, our eyes smiling at 

each other.

One less car

instead of facing backwards

gazing at the upholstery of the backseat

instead... the world,

the world whizzing by with all its colors,

the red stop sign and the green leaves stirring

in the wind, the yellow scarf wrapped around

the woman's neck, the one with red hair.

the sounds!

the voices!

the whirr of tires on pavement

I hear my mother singing

I see my mother waving at passersby

we are all smiling

and there is one less car on the road.

The owl vs the crows

A cloud of crows

cawing, swooping, the raw anger

one of their own securely held in 

the strong talons of the owl.

here, on top of an air conditioner

at 19th and Grove St, Alex's house.

She gazed calmly at the calamity,

the din, moving her head slightly

away from those black wings

the crows dared not approach,

her beak opened and closed, in case.

I could have watched forever, but

the husband and dog came looking for

me, to come for dinner, the pizza

was ready, a new episode of 

Uncovered was available,

but this episode, the owl and the 

crows interested me far more.

but in the end, owl did not care,

husband did.

En route

six and a half hours later

we slouched in our seats, having missed

our connections, our meetings, our homecomings.

United Express wasn't at all.

all efforts to suck it in, look alert,

pretend to be listening and to care,

gone.

the sun is blasting us, our guts

extended, snoring in our masks, 

glasses slipping down our noses.

get us home

that's all we want.