By Katie Ford
When a human is asked about a particular fire,
she comes close:
then it is too hot,
so she turns her face—
and that’s when the forest of her bearable life appears,
always on the other side of the fire. The fire
she’s been asked to tell the story of,
she has to turn from it, so the story you hear
is that of pines and twitching leaves
and how her body is like neither—
all the while there is a fire
at her back
which she feels in fine detail,
as if the flame were a dremel
and her back its etching glass.
You will not know all about the fire
simply because you asked.
When she speaks of the forest
this is what she is teaching you,
you who thought you were her master.
My Wednesday was pretty uneventful apart from preparations for the snow with which we're being threatened overnight, though I have a good friend dealing with a family health emergency that stressed me out all day on top of worrying about the California fires and the dumpster fire in the White House. When Paul came home, I dragged him to an EX raid at the Shriver Aquatic Center so we could stop at Trader Joe's and World Market to prepare for the snow that did not read the manual that says no snowing till after Thanksgiving.
Katniss decided to help herself to my hummus at lunchtime, which necessitated some research into whether hummus is dangerous for cats because it contains garlic (apparently not enough garlic to be a problem, though garlic cloves are not good for cats). Now she and Effie are sleeping on or under vents while Cinnamon is watching Avengers: Age of Ultron with us and Cheryl because we really wanted a movie with a great Stan Lee cameo. Here are some more photos from the Mount Vernon Colonial Fair last weekend: