Poem for Monday

untitled
By T. Galloway

I am the purple
of a martin’s wing
arced against
the evening sky.
I am an oval,
milky as the moon,
rolling across thunder.
I am the howl
of grief
and loss
and fury
that rises from a wolf’s throat
at midnight.
I am the last note
in the last hymn sung
at the funeral
of the last saint
who dies before the world ends.
I am zero,
nothing,
airy, round.
I am the wild green field
where dragons sleep under thorny roses
that ramble across
their sharp fire-edged faces;
I am the aspen that shivers
at the touch of the blood-moon.
I am afraid
of death
and its finality,
and the word that hides
behind my eyes
is shame.

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Poem snitched from . *bows in her general direction*

Have spent the morning thus far folding laundry and watching a bad season two episode of Dawson's Creek, the one where Abby finds the letter Pacey started writing to Andie after the first time they had sex and was trying to figure out, for her English project on mystery writing, whether Jack wrote it to Joey or Dawson to Jen. Had many giggles but the changed music on the DVD at the end of the episode made me huffy, even though I must admit that -- given a choice between the DVDs as they are being released, inexpensively, without the original music, or having to pay the kinds of prices Paramount wants for the Star Trek sets (which I, a lifelong Trekkie, absolutely refuse to dish out) -- I am very glad they released DC this way, affordable and with a new soundtrack.

Am reading the part in The Fortune of War where La Fleche has burned and sunk, and Jack and Stephen and a bunch of other guys are on a little boat with almost no fresh water and almost no provisions, and they're drinking each other's urine to survive, and all I can think about is, gee, did they have a container aboard for everyone to piss in so they could divide it up equally, or did everyone have a piss buddy, or what? Someone please explain this to me before I end up with a really kinky plot bunny. But wow, the American Navy rocks in this book so far. Plus O'Brian seems very sympathetic to the Americans so I don't think Weir violated the spirit of his books by making it a French rather than American ship that Jack was trying to sink in the movie. This (and the scenes from Dawson's Creek shot in the Outer Banks) puts me in the mood for a shipwreck picture.


A piece of the wreck of the Laura Barnes, Coquina Beach, South Nags Head, Cape Hatteras National Seashore, North Carolina

And inspired me to post this link to some very, very cute cat pictures. Even though normally I would not subject people to any cat photos that are not my own.