Sick of it

Driving country roads reminds me of the countless road trips that D and I took, I realized. 

Seeing the tree tops from the car window, slowing down at a ramp, ordering at Wendy's counter in a rural town, looking up at the sky from a parking lot of a hotel... at moments like these I expect him on my side, still!  

How lucky he is to be missed so much, or does he not care at all?  

I really should be over it; I thought I would've been a brand-new woman by now.  You weren't the world's sweetest man, right?  Help me become a whole person again already. 

Car Rental

A Conversation at a car rental desk at Denver Airport.
(between a dark-haired young woman at the desk and me)

She: I recommend our full coverage insurance.
I: No, we'll be okay. thanks, though.
She: Okay. There's no hell coverage then.
I: What coverage?
She: hell.
I: Excuse me, what was it again? Hell coverage?
She: Yes.  You are responsible for the hill, if you don't want the insurance.
I: The hill coverage?
She: Yes.
I: What kind of coverage is that?
She: Well, at this time of year, we have a lot of hail that damages cars -- YOU are responsible for that.
I: Ah, hail! Hail coverage!
She: Yes.

At the Museum

A blind man was in Chinese art section in the Metropolitan Art Museum.  He sat, in very upright, zen-like posture on a bench, with his arm folded around a silver cane and holding the museum's audio guide. 

He was listening to the device with such concentration that he looked all alone in the crowded room, as if breathing different air from the rest of us.  

As he listened, his eyes were moving busily behind the softly closed eyelids, and he sometimes tilted his head or moved his chin up and down, in trying to view something from different angles. 

With my limited imagination I could only wonder what he was seeing and how beautiful they were.  

The Girls

My sister-in-law, her husband and their two girls are in the city for a visit.

They came yesterday with the heavy rain and countless bags, 

crossed over three years' time in seven hours. 

We played "Go Fish"

had burritos and fajitas for dinner

talked and giggled and made silly faces

And read poems lying on the bouncy air bed

The girls had grown so much

now they have their own must-see destinations in New York

-- Chinatown and American Girl Dolls store.

The older one had a hard time sleeping

With the rain, winds, and occasional trucks and ambulance passing by

As I was brushing my teeth, I heard her father gently singing for her at the bedside.  

The younger one has eyes of D's.  

I couldn't help staring into them -those deep, blue eloquent eyes!

When we went outside this morning she looked at the sky and exclaimed,

"Look, the clouds are moving!"

Then she cited a poem, 

"White sheep, white sheep, on the blue hill..."

Not Bad at All

"Duckies," Aunt N used to call us.

Now I wade through the water in a singular form,
drawing simple lines behind as I go

I've got a friend
who sends me beautiful pictures,

I've got another friend
with whom I went up to the roof yesterday evening
and sat in silence under the inky sky,

I've found a great poet from Yugoslavia,
and I've got the radio talking to me softly (when I want it)

It's not bad at all!

Notes of Spoken Words

my violin teacher: "Every note has a life, every note has a reason."
D: "I'm as full of death as a drugstore"
some protesters: "No justice, no peace, 2468 we don't want to integrate"
a boy: "What time is it?"
father: "It's daytime"
Mao: "If you don't bite into the pear, then you can only imagine the taste"
again my violin teacher: "The music has to go somewhere"
D: "Poetry is much harder than rhyming"
me in 2008: "why, it's raining outside!"

A Rock of Nova Scotia

This massive rock, size of a small pillow, sits on my living room floor.  

It's just so heavy I can hardly move it.

It's the rock D fell in love with at the lonely beach 
in Nova Scotia many years ago.

He carried it stumbling along the shore, about a mile, to the old car

as if it was his whole future

At the end of that summer the rock crossed the border 
and came into our little urban life

where the voices of tides live only in its memory

“What would I do with it when ...?”

I have blurted out once and swallowed the rest, but it was too late

Hush fell in the room

like small flakes of dust,

on my guilty neck, on his sloping shoulders,

and on the massive rock of Nova Scotia

The rock still sits on the floor

cool and mute and unbudging

while the cat and I, the outlived,

prowl about in the house every day.


Seriously, 
what will I do with it?

April Fool

Death toll is still rising in northeastern Japan.

Today I bought three books online, went out and took a bunch of bad pictures, missed Garrison Keillor's radio show, and watched the movie "Breathless."

Then I opened the window listened for his voice calling me "Larry."
I am a fool of April 2nd.

Rolling Ball of Time

From D's notebook  (date unknown)
_______________________________________

I'm afraid of you
I don't like you
I'm afraid of you
Go away
Aaaaah  I don't want you
You scare me
I don't like you
*
You ask the best of me
You believe
I have the courage
Excuse my coughing
Warning!  Incoming
Every moment that passes
All the rolling ball of time
I have the courage
But excuse my coughing.
What did you want to say about the rolling
ball of time?