A good day and an old poem

Noticing a mud crust around the legs of my jeans made me smile today.  This means I’m getting my groove back.  Working half a day Wednesdays and getting in my OT (outdoors time), hours walking the hills at Greenbank Farm.  The area is the thinnest part of the island making it the only spot you can see water from both sides at the top of the hill.  It’s my favorite place to watch my favorite birds – hawks – and listen to grass in the wind.  There is always wind at the farm.  And if you close your eyes, you can imagine the main freeway up the island that edges the farm is a roaring river.

And then, I stopped in at the Greenbank Cheese Shop and chatted with the owner, another single mom named Erin.  Garlic Havarti and Dubliner for a monthly treat!

Below is one of my old poems that survived my computer’s destruction.  I wrote it at the point I had spent half my life in desert, half in the Pacific Northwest.  All my life the contrast between silence/sound, muteness/speech has been palpable.  I was so quiet in high school, a teacher actually thought I was mute.  I learned to talk people’s ears off later, but I usually like more silence than most can tolerate.  I listen and let things percolate.  It can appear spacey and aloof.

Inner Twins

Mute Sister muses

on the cacophony of desert:

bone sand decaying

under lizard freeways,

ravens seeding tumbleweeds,

mallow and buckwheat sprouting,

wild rice grass swaying

wind         wind        wind

Mute Sister thinks she owns time,

having captured sound;

stands and listens, absorbing

orchestras of lightening

and stars.

 

Spoken Sister speaks a ballet

of words, aerated words

like water bubbled from

a fish’s mouth –

sharp urchin-spined words,

words sprinkled in classrooms

showered over lecture-halls –

octopus words uncurling

suction cups.

Spoken Sister connects

people, contains her power

and readies her spray

like a humpback whale.

 

Sometimes Mute Sister listens,

collects her tears in a pool,

and contemplates swimming.

About Erin W

A sensitive plant, bamboo strong.
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