a poem
God Particles
jibber jabber
Sorrow has come to my door this morning and what could I do, but allow it inside. To live here with me until it decides to leave. The mighty oaks are being pruned today. My neighbors are tired of them hanging perilously above their roof. I don’t blame them at all, but I mourn the loss of the shaggy arching branches. There’s been a few losses over the last year I’m still recovering from as I map my way forward. Trying to see ahead through the trees.
Giant china rabbits, and dolls, and plastic bears, and warm toy kittens. There they were at a recent estate sale cascading over baskets and tables and resting on tiny chairs. And me slamming on brakes in my chariot to find a resting place on a busy thoroughfare so I could investigate. I won’t go so far as to say I was careful when throwing open the door with cars and buses speeding past, but I was quick.
I returned home with a pink cookie jar with a cat head lid. I stared and communed with the toys for much longer than necessary. I may have been in a trance. And ever since then I’ve noticed a gentle nudge to paint hares and other mammals. Thusly I carry on with my clumsy renditions of the animal kingdom.
The trip to France draws near. I feel a sense of urgency to do some things that need doing before I go, and maybe I will. In the meantime my pride of Madeira is pushing out towers of purple. The bees are drunk and spinning through the garden. White petals float down from the elderflower tree. The bougainvillea’s pink skirts grow longer and more robust by the hour. I’m walking and wandering and communing with the flora and fauna. The parrots visit often and keep me company. It’s day 321 of my retirement. 7,704 hours since I last reported for duty in the classroom.
Dottie sent me some photos of our people. I can’t keep them straight, but they’ve got me pegged. I’m planning to paint them, but I’m afraid they won’t look nearly as dignified as they did in life.
That’s the round up for April friends, you’ll inform me of your whereabouts and whatabouts. A rabbit painter in the city of angels wants to know how you be and what you do.
