Taller, Wider
By Laure-Anne Bosselaar
What is it I feel: this odd fusion
of elation and sadness that makes me
stop weeding and stand this way, hands
on hips, knee-deep in lavender?
The air, zealous with aromas
and swirls of bees, lisps in the breeze.
The willow I planted by the pond
five years ago in May, no longer
needs that stake I hammered
deep in dense, moist clay. It sways,
strokes the water with nimble limbs,
and will grow fuller still — taller, wider.
Bouncing off the granite
back of Sainte-Victoire, the dull
timbre of church bells. A quiet noon.
My hands sting with nettles and dirt.
On my wrist, the bracelet
love locked around it, long ago,
on a winter night. A wilted leaf
now caught between its links —
I leave it there: I am learning happiness.
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What I did all of today when I was not transcribing a long Manny Coto interview for an article at TrekToday, doing stuff with my kids or watching Digging Into History raid the Lost Ark on the History Channel is posted in the entry below this one. I suppose I should feel accomplished. Instead I feel like I never want to write any fan fiction again that's more than 500 word crack!fic. The fiction I've sold professionally hasn't taken as much work as fan fiction in series. Must reassess the payoff in pleasure.
On the other hand, the person I've gotten for my remix assignment has absolutely thrilled me...ironically, all the more so because I had never read anything by her or heard of her before, yet we have three fandoms in common and she has written some absolutely wonderful stuff. I am very excited and just a teeny bit nervous that perhaps I knew her once under another name, because it seems like we should have bumped into one another.
I'm three days behind on my friends list and way behind on e-mail and comments. Apologies. Will try to be more coherent in the morning. Meanwhile:
Shell in snow, Great Falls. Made me think of oysters and pearls.
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