Poem for Wednesday

Parking Lot
By Stephen Sandy

Hard to believe the racket geese make, squabbling,
holding a confab in the dark--pitch dark to him
padding back to check the lights; yes, the windows
are dark.
            But that honking down on the pond, like angry
taxis, stops him: late geese on their way -- he thinks --
homeward. But geese are home, wherever. A continent.
Are acting without accomplices; no past
or future to know. That squawky banter is
an irremediable thing.
                             He makes for his car, the office
shut down. Now someone passes him. They know each other --
each speaks with mild surprise the other's name,
no more. And heads his separate way across the dark.

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Wednesday is the kids' last day of school for the 2005-6 school year, and they get out at noon; Tuesday I had chores to do while they were at school, buying one more teacher present and an anniversary card for my parents, a couple of articles to write (Shatner and Mulgrew still in love with themselves, Mulgrew even more than Shatner I think or at least he has a sense of humor about it), laundry, more laundry, that sort of thing. We were all going to go out to the library in the early evening but I had a violently upset stomach for no good reason, so I rested for awhile and updated my web page.

There are Bionicle and Lego pieces all over the living room that certain people did not clean up before going to bed. I wonder what they will say when the first thing they have to do after finishing school for the year is clean the living room? At least they did clean the basement some, though their rooms are nightmares that must be attacked before we go out of town. Younger son obtained a pair of these buzzing magnet toys that he has been using to drive the cats nuts when he is home, as they make a noise like a cicada; when he is not home, however, they are stored in interesting places, like today for instance the metal part of the stair banister and yesterday it was a doorknob. I am hoping these do not make it into his bag when we pack for the trip! And incidentally, we discovered at the zoo this weekend that when otters want to get someplace, they act like boys and cats and just climb right over their friends:













National Treasure is on cable and we are recording it to take on the trip -- cramming lots of movies we like on single discs to avoid taking piles of DVDs. I totally, totally love this movie, despite the Da Vinci Code ripping-off and Nic Cage having better chemistry with Justin Bartha than Diane Kruger (and with Sean Bean, of course, but EVERYONE in this movie has better chemistry with Sean Bean, even Jon Voight when Sean is threatening to kill him). Fantasy tour of DC, Philly and New York with a cameo for Boston. It's easier to believe that the Catholic Church would have pulled the kind of cover-up that the Founding Fathers are credited with here, but it still floats my boat. And happy Flag Day!