Thursday, June 7, 2012

Count Them

A quart of cherries picked before the birds devour them.  The tree now two years' worth of regrowth after the wind called it down to the ground to rebuild again and again.  You do it.  You can.  It did.  Trust it.

His laughter.  Home.

Nora has been a dog for the last 27 hours.  That's acting!  She barks and quips and there is late night howling that makes my heart grow several sizes larger than I thought possible.  We're just a cave full of lovely wolves.  Howl and prowl.

Perhaps we do not consider enough the power of three ukuleles.  Perhaps we should.  Go long!  Go long!  Lighter fluid.  Lighter fluid.  We'd secretly like to be in The Who, but, you know, with ukes.

Hello, God!

Audre Lorde's book of essays Sister Outsider.  


Dancing the equation to its solution.  Movement is not to be feared.  Grace is not to be feared.  Rhythm is the hand touching the cradle of the child that touches the stars that touch the atom in your fingernail.  Put it all in your pocket and hand it to someone you love.

Cat Stevens and Carli Simon.   A call and "I'm here."

Nine days and nineteen hours.




3 comments:

  1. I went through a dog "phase" only I'm pretty sure mine lasted for like a year haha. I walked around the house on all fours and barked stuck out my toungue when I was walking on my knees. So embarrasing...but there was something SO cool about being a dog!

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  2. I love the count down, my darling. And the phone call...mmm...I'm there with you tonight. :)

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  3. I like it all. I like three ladies in a room singing their stories together and smiling because it's just so true and so real and it's all good. Love you and keep 'em coming!

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