Do NOT quit before the finish…
Thank you Susan
Tag: snow
Running. And Free Fallin’.
Let’s take inventory.
Four Falls.
The heals of both hands scraped raw, instruments used to break each fall.
A right knee bruise. Severity? Somewhere on a continuum between Deep and below the surface. We’ll know for sure in the morning.
We are a self-correcting, self-learning being, right? Otherwise we wouldn’t be standing, breathing, and reading this, Right?
Adam, in his hunt for food for Eve and the kids, after falling face-first the first time, said, hmmmm, that didn’t feel good. That didn’t work out. Let’s not do that again.
24° F. It’s the first snow of the season and I’m prepping.
Underwear. Thermal Underwear. Thermal Socks. Thermal undershirt. Wicking overshirt. Heavy Down coat. Tuke. Gloves. Fanny Pack with bottle of water, smartphone and headphones.
I catch a glimpse of this package in the mirror before stepping into the garage. Holy Sh*t. Sasquatch.
I pull on Ugg Boots, two pound leg weights strapped on each foot. Who runs in snow in Ugg Boots?
First fall.
A flat surface, I’m caught by surprise. An ice patch. The legs fly out. I fall heavily on left side, air gushes out of the belly, which is still jiggling. I roll on my back. Where’s my smartphone? Right pocket please. Right.
Second fall.
A steep incline. Uggs are crampon-less. Right leg slides out. Left leg follows, and a tumble down a short embankment. I’m covered in a mixture of snow, leaves and dirt. Camouflage. Military drills. No, more like Carl Spackler the greenskeeper on Caddyshack: “They’re like the Viet-Cong…Varmint-Cong. So you have to fall back on superior firepower and superior intelligence. And that’s all she wrote.” Continue reading “Running. And Free Fallin’.”
Saturday Morning
…it is winter here.
Look how white everything is,
how quiet, how snowed-in.
I am learning peacefulness, lying by myself quietly
As the light lies on these white walls, this bed, these hands…
To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.
How free it is, you have no idea how free——
The peacefulness is so big it dazes you,
And it asks nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets…
~ Sylvia Plath, from Tulips in Collected Poems
Notes: Poem Source – Poetry Foundation, Photo: Donata Wenders (in the snow)
fireflies in the blood
Like the first time I ever saw a cardinal,
brilliant flash of red against the gray
of the English room, your voice clapped
against the windows;
signal: fireflies in the blood.
[…]
—Aracelis Girmay, “English Class” (for Anthony)
Credits: Poem – Who are you really, wanderer?. Photo: Delightful
Driving I-95 S. The Last Term.
3:39 am. Thursday morning. Or, Wednesday night bleeding over.
20 minutes until shower time.
I’m staring at the ceiling. Woozy. Did you get any sleep?
Six hours ago Mom’s helping him pack.
Suitcases are open.
Zeke sets the mood, moping.
“Dad, do you have any sweatpants I can take?”
“Take anything you want.”
“Do you have anything that doesn’t look like leisure wear?”
I smile. It’s clear who mentored that sarcasm, honed now, cold steel glistening.
We’re in the car.
It’s Silent. Father and Son awkward.
He’s turning the dials, away from my 7 on 70s on Sirius to some thumpin’ Electro BEAT.
The bitter taste of scotch at 4:30am.
I let it pass. Continue reading “Driving I-95 S. The Last Term.”