Roy Orbison and John Milton Are Still Dreaming
By April Bernard
You know what I mean: In the instant
of waking in bliss, the whole body smiles—
He's still alive—She came back—They didn't mean it—
We forgive and are forgiven—It all turned out—
And then the hand claws the duvet,
seized by the real, as all that's warm just drops.
I know you know. But I seek a potion
to make me dream of the actual with the same fervor,
so I'll wake to happy facts: It's spring! It's raining! Robins!
Someone will return a phone call today! My son
has watched the clock and let me nap for 35 minutes!—
and does not notice my face smacked wet
by the snap of the delusion, unmatched in sweetness,
that you promised to hold me always.
It was a fairly quiet Tuesday and I have no idea how it got to be 11:45 p.m. so I will keep this short. Folded laundry, watched Shine -- performances all superlative, music wonderful, the parental Holocaust storyline was not quite what I had been led to believe and I'm not sure how I feel about it (I often have issues with how the psychology of Holocaust survivors is portrayed in movies, even or perhaps especially if they're based on someone's real life). Took Adam to tennis and walked for an hour in the park while he played, it was 70 degrees and absolutely gorgeous out, several people were there with their dogs swimming in the creek.
Had dinner (on the late side since Daniel has robotics all week) and watched Star Trek: Insurrection which I need to review by Friday and may not have time to watch tomorrow -- there's a meeting for parents of seniors at older son's school but it looks like it may be a giant pitch for good behavior on prom night and attendance at after-prom, so I'm not positive we're going, but we might. Here are some more photos from Green Spring Gardens, which has a little Herbology Garden as well as ponds with turtles, blooming camellias, and spring birds: