By Laura Cronk
Unclouded third eye and lush
red wings. I'm pouring water
from cup to cup.
This is the water we are meant
to drink with the other animals.
There are daffodils by the water,
a road leading from the water
to the shining crown of the sun.
My white hospital gown —
off-the-rack and totally sane.
My foot unsteady, though,
heel held aloft, missing its stiletto.
Nine months sober emblazoned
on my flat chest in red
below girlish curls and mannish chin.
You can't see my eyes.
You've never seen them.
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"I drew 'Temperance' from a Tarot deck and this poem was born," Cronk told Poets.org, noting that she was inspired by Brenda Shaughnessy's and Megin Jimenez's Arcana poems.
The weather on Tuesday was insanely beautiful, clear and not too warm. After morning chores, I had lunch with my neighbor Carole at Zoe's Kitchen, and though we considered doing some shopping afterward, I'd been talking about local flowers so we decided instead to go to McCrillis Gardens to walk. (Right now my back is happier walking than doing anything else!) The azaleas aren't quite at peak, but there's lots of color, and there are also a lot of camellias, dogwood, and what's left of the bluebells:
My afternoon was not exciting beyond picking up niece and taking her to the post office to mail her taxes before the deadline. I took another walk in the neighborhood to make my back feel better after sitting and saw a bunny and deer; my mother stopped by and we walked and saw another bunny. In the evening we watched the last episode of Broadchurch, which was much more satisfying than the finale of the second season, and Agents of SHIELD, which feels as out of ideas as every other ABC show I watch.
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