By Linda Pastan
The way a birthmark
on a woman's face defines
rather than mars
her beauty,
so the skyscrapers--
those flowers of technology--
reveal the perfection
of the garden they surround.
Perhaps Eden is buried
here in Japan,
where an incandescent
koi slithers snakelike
to the edge of the pond;
where a black-haired
Eve-san in the petalled
folds of a kimono
once showed her silken body
to the sun, then picked a persimmon
and with a small bow
bit into it.
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Most of my Monday was too boring to describe -- suffice to say it involved lots of chores and not enough sunshine, though when I was out there the bunnies were peeking out to nibble the grass. Daniel is back at work in College Park, Adam is at beach week where apparently he has had lots of barbecue, ice cream, and sun, and the cats want constant attention since they aren't here. This makes jewelry repair difficult, as little paws get in the way.
Beauty and the Beast came back on the air on Monday night, and since for some incomprehensible reason the CW has renewed it even though its ratings have been abominable and, worse, it has nearly been unwatchable, I put it on. From a show that started with a focus on three women of color whose love lives were tangential to their friends and careers, the episodes have devolved to failing the Bechdel test. More from the Washington Folk Festival:
Lulu's Fate on the Yurt Stage.
The Foggy Bottom Morris Men...
...and the Rock Creek Morris Women.
Angela and myself by the roses behind the Bumper Car Pavilion...
...which hosts the festival craft show...
...where one can buy wonderful locally-made soaps, jewelry, bird feeders, wind chimes, and tie-dye shirts among other things.
Jennifer Cutting's Ocean Orchestra on the Potomac Palisades Stage: Jennifer, Lisa Moscatiello, Rico Petruccelli, Stephen Winick, and Andrew Dodds...
...and me and Paul with Steve and Jennifer by the carousel.
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