Ode to Love
By Jennifer Militello
Place its toothpicked pit in water, watch the grist
of its insides grow. Witness its populous bloom,
honeycombed with rough. Its cobblestones grip
the heart in its mitt, a closed fist thickened
and gritty as silt. The swamp of the plumb beat
adamant as weeds. The dish of which is salted
by complexities or cries. It is a house in which
we cannot live, the quiver on the arrow
we cannot launch. It grows late over Nevada
as we watch. Strikes its gullies: we grow burnt
as a moth. Mimics a sleep of archives and
the small lies all forget. Mimics all laughter
broken by the time it leaves the mouth.
With its moving parts, its chimes, its gleam,
it muddies our archways, lying low, gives off
noise and steam; its mechanics clear the fence.
It must be wooed. Must be quieted. Hush. It must
be soothed. Has a snag. Has a bleed. A drape.
Flaps awkwardly, at its edges, a heron. At
its center, a wide bottom perfect with fish.
I had no vehicle on Wednesday -- one was with Paul at work, the other was with Adam in College Park -- but Alice and Avery came over, took me to the mall, went shopping with me (we were pretty good in Gamestop apart from Avery discovering he had enough money to buy a video game and me discovering the $4 sale t-shirts were buy-one-get-one, and we did not buy Alex and Ani Wonder Woman bracelets, stopped for Starbucks and cream cheese for the bagels I already had, and ate while watching Pokemon 2000, which I have on VHS left over from my kids' childhood!
Paul and I had thought about going to the Big Train minor league game, but it was still 95 degrees as evening approached, so we decided it was just not the night for it. (Same with my intention to take a walk, though I did see a bunny with Avery during a brief sojourn to catch Ash's Pikachu.) Adam stayed in College Park until late, so we had breakfast for dinner (eggs, facon, English muffins with marmalade) and watched some Versailles. Here are some photos from the C&O Canal last month (warning for Shalini: several pics down there is a snake):