6 October 2013
Happy birthday to my mother, who has dubbed herself the “Dalai Mama”. Yup, that’s my mom.
It has been a great day, even though I’m tired, even though it’s raining. We did our work, we took a walk, we did the recycling, we had some lunch at a local cafe that serves great food with local, seasonal ingredients. I called my mom, talked to her for hours. Andrew made butternut squash soup, and we did laundry and put away clothes and dishes. I found a new musician I really like (hear above). I’m copying out some Stephen Dunn poems to a new pen pal. The show has wound down, it’s over now, and I don’t miss it. I’m happy it happened, and I loved the experience, but now I feel like I’m surrounded by a welcome peace. I chatted with my brother and almost-sister-in-law, and heard about their work, their days, how autumn has come to them with colorful trees, a good harvest and lavender-olive-oil-apple-cake. It all sounds wonderful.
I didn’t write the second essay for ModPo, and I’m fine with that. There’s a lot of work to do this week for my tutoring and the PhD, and I’m fine with that too. I feel great, and relaxed, and happy.
A Worker’s Creed
From sunlight, the obvious and the lush.
The pleasures of exposure
and the pleasures of covering up
with a straw, broad-brimmed hat.
But I like cloudy days like this
after days like that.
Days I can gather speed
and open my eyes the whole way.
I like images like occluding front,
the aesthetics of sensing my shadow
lost in its own substance.
And I like the inspiration I get
from a sudden coolness,
days I can imagine Icarus thinking
“Not today,” then doing
a little more work on his wings.