By Sharon Olds
If, someday, we had to look back
and tell the best hours of our lives,
this was one -- moving my brow
and nose around, softly, in your armpit,
as if you were running a furred palm
over my face. The skin of my body
touching your body felt actively joyful,
sated yet sipping and eating. As you fell
asleep, your penis slowly caressed me,
as if you were licking me goodbye, and I lay
slack, weightless, my body floated
on fathomless happiness. When someone
knocked on the door, you didn't wake up,
and I didn't wake you, and when they knocked again
I did not rouse you, I felt sure that nothing
was wrong -- it was just a someone, calling,
outside heaven, and the noise of the outsideness laid a
seal on our insideness. There was just this bed,
just these two, and, passing this way
and that, from angle to angle of the room --
wall, ceiling, floor, bedpost -- the
curved sound-waves of their recent cries,
by now a billion, bright webs,
look back and see this.
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I had a nice Wednesday, which dawned dark and rainy but turned into a nice, rather warm late morning and afternoon. I met my neighbor Cybel for coffee -- our sons are in school together and have been friends for many years, so we were talking about kids, Halloween parties, crazy neighbors and things like that. Then I did a bit of shopping (pharmacy stuff, a gift exchange) and came home to work, which went well enough that I forgot all about folding the laundry until after dinner and put it off till morning. My two major acquisitions for the day were gifts from my husband: Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides on DVD and the grocery/drugstore Halloween Barbie witch!
We had hoppin' john for dinner and watched Harry's Law, which had one storyline that was quite interesting and one that was pretty didactic, while conversing with Daniel about plans for the weekend, since the University of Maryland is having Family Weekend but he has a class and several activities on Friday. Originally we were going to meet my in-laws in College Park on Friday but I think we're going to go with all four grandparents on Saturday (and Adam, who has plans with his friends when he doesn't have a cross country meet). LiveJournal's Scrapbook is still screwy, so here as best as I can load them are some photos from the farm festival last weekend:
A sheep with some of Catoctin Creek Farm's award-winning wool.
Whispering Meadows gets wool from its many alpacas...
...and angora bunnies like this big fluffy one.
This calf was a day old when we met it...
...at South Mountain Creamery, where the many adult cows were out grazing.
Though the chickens and guinea fowl were hiding from the crowds, there were also newly hatched chicks...
...and adorable oinking piglets.
There are no actual sea creatures at Jumbo's Pumpkins, only painted on the hay bales.
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