By Meena Alexander
Snails circle
A shed where a child was born.
She bled into straw-
Who can write this?
Under Arcturus,
Rubble of light:
We have no words
For what is happening-
Still language endures
Celan said
As he stood in a torn
Green coat
Shivering a little,
In a night theater, in Bremen.
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Friday was a gorgeous day, clear and warmer than it's been since the snow. Hufflepants had a pass for a free lunch for two at Roti, the Mediterranean chain opening a new place in Bethesda, so I met her in the mall and we did a bit of clothes-and-jewelry browsing before going to try the restaurant (excellent eggplant, pretty good hummus, pita and rice, nice low prices). Then I came home and went with Paul to go pick up Daniel in College Park so he can go out with us on Saturday for my mother's birthday. The horses were out at the University farm, but if there are lambs yet, they weren't in the barnyard.
We had dinner with my parents and both kids, I posted a review of Deep Space Nine's quite good Dax love story "Rejoined", we watched this week's Nikita (any episode with Nikita and Amanda in the same scene is a good one as far as I'm concerned), and now older son and I are watching some Voyager -- late third season and early fourth, always happy to see Leonardo da Vinci, lots of eyerolling at other stuff especially "Unity." These flower photos were taken at Winterthur last April when the March bank was still in bloom, but I forgot all about them for months:
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