By Linda Pastan
You have grown wings of pain
and flap around the bed like a wounded gull
calling for water, calling for tea, for grapes
whose skin you cannot penetrate.
Remember when you taught me
how to swim? Let go, you said,
the lake will hold you up.
I long to say, Father let go
and death will hold you up.
Outside the fall goes on without us.
How easily the leaves give in,
I hear them on the last breath of wind,
passing this disappearing place.
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I don't have much to report from my Thursday. I had a bunch of work to do and a bunch of chores to do, none of which are exciting enough to reiterate here. The good news is that when I finished all that, I watched Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy with the commentary on, and while I wished they had more of the actors than just Gary Oldman and the director had more to say about how some of the acting choices came about -- did he give direction, was it entirely up to the performers -- it was worth watching that way just to hear Oldman go on about how great Firth and Strong are and how much he thinks Jim Prideaux loves Bill Haydon.
Son came home late -- his spring break started after school -- with his girlfriend and his neighborhood friend, then he went to the girlfriend's house for dinner, leaving me and Paul alone to share leftover pizza. It was a perfect evening for walking and I saw both the deer family (four females, almost always together) and the cul-de-sac bunny out among the flowers. We watched a DS9 episode, then Awake, which I would be loving if only it weren't so violent -- the cast is great, it's just so grim having murders every week, not my thing. Now I am urging Daniel to found Terrapins for a Better Tomorrow, Tomorrow so he can get the Turtles Don't Like Peanut Butter shirt. Brookside spring vistas from two weeks ago:
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