3.19.15 The soft shoulder slowly freezing, the wild wind streaming across the land.

Into the drive he pulls, as the sunset nears the horizon, and off I race, smiling, past him.   But he understands.

 

Down to the Eagle Sanctuary, where the broad cold March winds sweep across the open plain, hip up next to the frozen river.

By the farmer's field with the grand tree and the stream, the sun sets a bit more.

 

At the Connecticut, taking care of the rutted walk and the ice and snow covered waters far below, I stand, silent, as our earth orbits, and the sun disappears below the horizon.

 

On the way home, I say hello to the dead end road of more cultivated fields, the soft shoulder slowly freezing, the wild wind streaming across the land.

 

3.19.15 On Deserted Interstates At Midnight

Ah, I remember being 21, living and working in Vermont,

all of us young women learning about Isadora Duncan.

Emulating her; as we danced in flowing gowns

on deserted interstates at midnight,

in country fields at sunrise .

 

3.18.15 Because fiddling around feeling unhappy about stuff that isn't ours

Sometimes people write me about other people.

 I tell them that the interactions I have with someone are mine. That their interactions are theirs, not mine. 

If it’s a good friend, we talk and it's all about your or my experience, not the other person.

What you speak of  is not mine to share. It's just not mine.

And I value people who honor that with me.

It's good for us to slowly learn what is ours.

 To share, to talk about, to fret about.

And what is not ours at all, so we gently teach ourselves to stop mulling over or wringing our hands about stuff that isn't ours.       

Because fiddling around feeling unhappy about stuff that isn't ours destabilizes us .

There isn't much in our culture anymore that clarifies this for us, 

save the deep murmur of internal distress and anxiety, that signals how we have pushed beyond wise boundaries, 

and the stuff we are messing with is creating a warning message of discomfort.

3.18.15 Once again before dark

Out the window of my study, the sun is slowly sinking down, 

glorious golden light casting  color on the edge of clouds it looms behind; 

as the last of the birdfood table's visitors come by.

 As an enormous black bird with white head sails by far overhead, motionless. 

One of my neighbors, from the Eagle Sanctuary, 

sweeping the landscape once again, before dark.

3.18.15 The Speeding Dingdong, Yesterday

The peaceful Eagle Sanctuary yesterday, just sitting there being soothing.

After that speeding dingdong , looking at their cell phone while driving , 

came this close to smashing into my car.