By Wendy Rose
just once
just long enough
to snap up the words
fish-hooked from
our tongues.
You think of us now
when you kneel
on the earth,
turn holy
in a temporary tourism
of our souls.
With words
you paint your faces,
chew your doeskin,
touch breast to tree
as if sharing a mother
were all it takes,
could bring instant and primal
knowledge.
You think of us only
when your voices
want for roots,
when you have sat back
on your heels and
become
primitive.
You finish your poem
and go back.
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My friend Roger posted this poem by his friend, the poet, who sadly passed away a week ago. I had not read it before and was really struck by it. It's from her book Lost Copper.
We went on Saturday to the Stone Zoo in Stoneham, which is part of Zoo New England along with the Franklin Park Zoo. My friend Meredith met us there, and we saw lots of animals in big wooded yards -- a lynx and snow leopard, macaws and flamingos, gibbons and tamarins, reindeer and fennec fox, tortoises and porcupines -- we did not see the family of wolves hiding in their enormous enclosure nor the ringtail hiding in its many hidey holes, but we did see bunnies that had snuck into several pens, and many, many birds. In the late afternoon we tried to get ice cream, but the parlor was closed, so we got drinks at Dunkin instead.
We came home to feed our starving cats, eventually ate a small dinner, and, having missed most of the sports we cared about during the afternoon, watched Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice. I don't even know what genre to put it in -- crime caper? action comedy? buddy time travel? gangster sci-fi? -- but it's really funny when it's not extremely violent and worth watching just for the debates about Disney movies and Gilmore Girls, plus Vince Vaughn has better chemistry with himself than anyone in Bad Monkey with him. Now we're watching the first episode of Discovery's second season, and I'm glad to see Pike but the Sarek retcon irritates me as much as the Klingon retcon.
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