Song for the Festival
By Gretchen Marquette
At the May Day parade, my mask made of moss
and bark, my hair full of flowers, my friend beside me,
her pretty red mouth under the hawk’s beak
of her mask of green sage.
At the children’s pageant, music
died in the speakers. The shadow
of a crow passed over. My hair a crown
of flowers, yellow and red roses large as fists,
flowers on which I’d spent my last $20
at the mercado.
But beauty wasn’t enough. Being admired
by strangers was not enough.
I saw a girl, wandering, looking for her mother.
I knelt down, lowered my mask, showed her
my face. She’s looking for you too, I say.
She tries to spot her mother’s yellow dress.
A gold dog passes, happy and white-faced,
wearing pink nylon fairy wings. The girl points
and laughs; the hard part of her day
is over.
The people I’m looking for—I don’t know where they are.
I don’t know the color of their clothing. From across the park
I see the dark windows of my apartment.
Spring has arrived.
Let me not despair.
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I had kind of a hectic Monday but it was all things that had to be done at home, plus a neighbor stopped by to ask for help with a cat she's rescued (she thinks its family left it behind when they moved) and my mom stopped by to visit us and the cats. It was a cool, gorgeous day, so when we finally got out for a walk, it felt great to be in the woods. We had veggie sloppy joes for dinner.
We watched way too much of the Celtics-Heat game waiting to see the new Thor: Love and Thunder trailer, which is a total delight and was worth it (Russell Crowe! Jane and Valkyrie! The tattoo!). Then we watched the first couple of episodes of Daredevil since we never saw it when it first aired because we didn't have Netflix. Here's Glenstone's Split-Rocker in early blooming phase:
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