I maneuver down the produce aisle.
A squeaky wheel on my cart draws
attention. I catch their gaze,
eyes like burning arrows aimed at me.
With each whisper, I feel their words
whittling at my soul. How long
will I be on display? I’ve become
a convenient store tabloid, a mockery
to be scorned, sensationalized,
something for the world to ridicule.
Eternity easily could have been
a forgotten horse
and the lonely cooing
of a lost dove.
In the moment we walk away
from each other, a telling wind
comes to open ears and eyes
to stranger things.
Today I walked away from life,
and alone, in this gully,
I looked at the river,
and found myself with a horse,
and the lonely cooing of a lost dove
Like someone passing by,
the wind came skin to skin,
and choking it cried—
“Eternity may be a river only,
a forgotten horse,
and the lonely cooing
of a lost dove.”
Author: Rafael Albertí
Translator: Manny Grimaldi
Please use a piece of damp tissue
to pick up your hair in the bathroom.
It seems like such a small thing.
But, as I have told you before,
the cloths I use for cleaning
pick up the hair and leave it
on surfaces I have just cleaned.
So you, the one with the long
hair, please use a piece of tissue
to pick up your hair in the bathroom
before I stop cleaning it altogether.
In the potter’s hands
the wet red clay transforms from
cylinder to vase
Sometimes we are clay
Spinning on the planet earth
shaped by God’s skilled hands
We are earthenware
cups and serving bowls to be
Filled and then poured out
I missed you immediately this morning
an after image of the immediacy in you walking away storming
led to a dismissal of the privilege of your laughter and adoring
a myriad of misses reading the signs and forewarnings
brought an endlessness of wishes to our bond reforming..
I guess you could say I’m having a bad mourning…
