5/29/20
“Playtime Bewitches the Day”
I vacuum to the Beatles’ “White Album”
swagger my hips
while rub-a-dubbing with the Dirt Devil,
firing up the fantasy how
the vacuum will swallow every living, non-living thing,
then sound swish “Covid-19 is dead.”
When my three grandchildren FaceTime from their Chicago basement, I social distance from my machine. This kid coven of three, who parent distance themselves, decide to play all day unsupervised; however, lunch and dinner is room service. When William says that after four-year-old Maddie naps, he’ll surprise his older sister by choosing a costume for his big sister to wear. Maddie crawls into Izzy’s lap for a hug so we hang up.
On this patent leather day,
I vacuum the alphabet sown with sorrow.
Later, William chooses a costume that no longer fits his sister, a disguise Izzy’s long outgrown. How their fluttering wings of growth keep me going.
5/30/20
“Stop-Time”
A scrub blue jay captures me,
picks up, drops,
tests more dry pine needles
wondering “would that work for the nest?”
In the new sheltering, slo-mo time,
I skip drying dishes to watch the bird
discard what it examines.
The bird streaks across the garden,
coloring it in dusky blue.
I hunt for my animal spirit book which translates
animal spirits into messages. I glom onto a Covid-19
idea from “Animal Speak” on a May day in 2020:
The blue jay reflects that a time of greater resourcefulness and adaptability is about to unfold.*
* “ANIMAL-SPEAK, The Spiritual & Magical Powers of Creatures Great & Small,” Ted Andrews.
