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Posts Tagged ‘vignettes’

I don’t want family
I don’t want friends
I don’t want a community

I want a world

A world where we all treat each other
like members of the community
like dearest friends
like cherished family

I want a world

k

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reaching upward
pruning shears in hand
I straddle the ladder
feet on the top rungs
head in the bare-branched treetop

my breath draws clouds
and the low golden sunlight
melts the dew into mist

I look up
as black rags fly past
congregate in the dark spruces
and caw bloody murder

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summer’s iron hand
beats me with light
with heat
my mind winces
whipped dog shying
hiding in darkened corners

then, for a few hours
clouds bring respite
moisture’s brief touch
salves my skin
saves my soul

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————————

Two people, side by side, promise to love each other forever
It is a hope: that love is an ally
It is a belief: that we are stronger together
It is a dream: of a new history begun
But more than that, it is a statement:
You and I, are We.
And We can take on the World.

————————

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as you look across
the room/table/bed
at him/her/them
your heart’s perfect home

remember this

skin wrinkles
waists thicken
hair goes thin/grey

know this

hearts grow
minds expand
dreams die/are reborn

expect this

we are inconstant
water in life’s river
evolving/adapting/learning

accept this

alive
we change
we are change

want this

life
is our fate
promise
gift

remember this
know this
expect this
accept this
want this

***

k

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Man, the tool maker.

Great apes, dolphins, sea otters, crows, jays, octopuses: Dude, get a grip.

Man, the user of language.

Dolphins (again), orcas, bats: Um… what now?

Man, the animal that grieves.

Elephants, dolphins (yet again), giraffes, jays: Seriously?

Man, the animal that farms its food.

Ants, damselfish, wood beetles: Hey, get off my lawn!

Man, um, the … jeez … the animal that cooks its food.

Dragons: Hold my beer.


k

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Thursday: Barbarians at the gate

Riders, sir! Enemy advancing! Portcullis down! Drawbridge up! All able bodies to the walls! Defend the city! Heaven help us, they’ve breached our defenses. We’re being overrun!

Friday: Auto-da-fé

Muscles are seared by heat. Every joint creaks. Be strong! Don’t give in. Tell them nothing! But the fire, it burns. It burns!

Saturday: Eye of the Storm

The fire is out. My lungs pop and snap with the sound of distant firecrackers, only to explode in fits of coughing that tear my throat. My muscles have the strength of cooked ramen. I get aerobic just standing up. This thing, it has my wife, now; she is following my trail, and today she burns in Torquemada’s fire.

Sunday: Clever Girl

The virus spent two days in my chest and has fully colonized me. Now it climbs to its launch pad: my head. Chest rattling, nose dammed, the hacking coughs are joined by hook-ended sneezes that tear off little bits of lung in their explosive exit. My eyes weep tears of acid, burning, bringing more toxic tears. I am a seeping, spasmodic mass of flesh. The yellow jack flies high.

Monday: The Land of the Vocal Fry

My voice has dropped below Barry White level and shudders like an ill-tuned Harley. Every miserable exhalation is accompanied by a crushed-gravel moan, but not from pain; it’s a comfort. To hear my voice, damaged as it is, is to confirm that I’m still alive.

Tuesday: End Game

Expectations are low. Stamina is limited. We return to work (from home … we don’t want to give this to anyone else), but will continue to rest, repair, and recoup our spent reserves.

k

Disclaimer:
I do not often get colds. Usually, I fight them off. This is the first time I’ve been brought low in about two years. My wife — a woman who always gives me straight answers to direct questions — assures me that rather than being a man-baby about it, I’m pretty much a Stoic, refusing to succumb even when rest would do me more good. This time, I had little choice. Surrender was my only option.

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