By Yehuda Amichai
You visit me inside the apple.
Together we can hear the knife
paring around and around us, carefully,
so the peel won't tear.
You speak to me. I trust your voice
because it has lumps of hard pain in it
the way real honey
has lumps of wax from the honeycomb.
I touch your lips with my fingers:
that too is a prophetic gesture.
And your lips are red, the way a burnt field
is black.
It's all true.
You visit me inside the apple
and you'll stay with me inside the apple
until the knife finishes its work.
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This is a somewhat odd week for my family because the county is giving high school assessment exams, which my kids don't have to take but which affect the use of their school buildings for all other grades. Daniel is busy with Puzzlepalooza, meaning that he is at least in the school building during usual school hours, while Adam doesn't have to get to school till nearly noon (and he gets out at 2:10, so it's not a very long school day).
Since it rained several times today, quite hard while son and his friends would have been walking to school, I drove them. I did not get a great deal accomplished otherwise besides collecting all four lambs in the new Superpoke Pets marketplace and taking a lovely walk in the woods in between rainstorms. I thought I was having dinner with Gblvr but she is crazed with moving, and I was going to watch the Star Trek episode I need to review on Friday but got distracted watching the endless Orioles-Yankees game which is not yet over as of this writing.
Jon Stewart just blamed Newt Gingrich's sudden decline on "appealing to the moderate wing of the Republican party, a wing which, as you know, has been closed for renovations since Nelson Rockefeller died." Hee. Here are some photos of the birds that live at Lake Whetstone, which include not only the adorable goslings I keep posting, but green herons, ducks, cormorants, dozens of songbirds, and a colony of great blue herons who nest in one large tree:
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