no hens

No Hens

almost nightly as the evening descends

i stop myself from heading to the chicken lot

no hens there

the yard is a cloud of white

tall wild asters

summoning the ghosts of my hens

to a wild reckoning

Mary North

from the motion sensitive camera in the woods

Like a Woman

if I find the words

will I change, will I

not panic at the small

will I not jump

at surprise

if I can speak the lesson

of my life

beating

can I open up enough

to read the hieroglyphs 

on my inner screen

can I wake from

this heavy handed

voice

zen master

with a stick?

Mary North

title is odd, but trying to make suitable for a theme in a journal which i hope doesn't know i have a blog....it is a soaking kind of scene outside, an excellent day to seek discipline and work on some scraps of poems. 

Trying a little discipline

Twin

my sister wrapped herself in all the family karma

(a psychic said within the womb, you think?)

she gulped the dark, as if the best chocolate

(like granny hid for herself)

she wore the garment drama

(a twin dressed in rainbow scarves on Mardi gras)

false joy, teacher’s pet,

a dare

there was no reward

but death

(the kamikaze suicide, the single car wreck)

I had no words 

but felt the blast of raw undress.

Mary North

why am I negligent

It is not in my routine, not even with chickens expunged from routine, not even since the grandchildren have with their parents gone to Dominican Republic for the winter escuela and tonic. I have become a prisoner of my own making, fairly prepared for a nursing home with a jigsaw puzzle laid out on a card table. I do walk with my dear dog to the river or up the road daily. I do busy myself with soup making and meetings and teaching qigong, recently adding an evening of qigong class in Floyd. I regularly practice Spanish on Duolingo - hope to try out at least a few words at the supermercado this Christmas. I feel somewhat rudderless. 

And here is a neighbor of the night, coyote, caught on the motion sensitive outdoor camera we have set up by the creek. A here is a bear! Lots of deer and raccoons  have been photographed, occasionally a turkey, blue heron and river otters. 

  

birthdays and cousins

In a few days, Pearl and True with their parents will be flying to Ethiopia; a trip which includes visits to True's and to Pearl's areas of birth and a donkey ride. I am slow to realize the end of summer is upon us - so much of me wanting it not to be. After a delightful two week visit with Ezra and Sofia, I ended up with Lyme's - i suspect recurrent incident. So I am on doxy and a herbal brew. Ah, so I have been remiss about completing many summer projects (not yet moving the mulch Baldwin brought for my birthday!). 

The scents magnify

Night blooming cereus two nights ago, opening up as the moon brightened a dark greenhouse and this morning, the first gardenia opens. I am delighted and intoxicated. The magnolia still beckons me to pull a bloom to my nostrils as does the frangipani on the deck. 

Meanwhile in New Orleans, tropical storm Barry (which is just off the mouth of the river) threatens to inundate the city. It is a slow moving storm and the river is swollen from the rains in the midwest - levees will be challenged. Pirogues on Coliseum street in front of Commander's Palace just blocks from where I once lived, flooding before Barry, two days ago. What will it take for our government to mount a serious national effort to confront climate change? GOT to vote this dispicable President out!
This morning's harvest from the garden:

July, the longest day behind us

Rain has promoted many many blooms, the smell I have to bend a branch to inhale, delicious. This morning a walk to the river, where the tale of the day before is marked in the further erosion of the bank from 2.3 inches of rain. The garden benefits from Robin's pony, Joey's droppings - big green tomatoes, I anticipate red with lust. I have been enjoying cucumbers and squash and onions (better than in years past) and Blue house beans and swiss chard. We prepare for Pearl's 11th birthday - I am filling a piñata. 

I have been meeting with a counselor in hopes of managing my anxiety (anticipatory), a wonderful young woman who reminds me of my friend Diane - (she has a whimsical manner of dressing - all dressed in black one time, sort of vampish - costumes like - as if trying on personalities perhaps inspired by her clients ?). We are just beginning a therapy that goes by the initials: EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing). It brings up past moments of stomach unsettling events...and it has made me more sensitive to the feelings. I am more often than I thought of queasy stomach. Hoping to make traveling easier and sharing my kitchen a breeze! ah!