Sit at my table

A day

sitatmytable — Tue, 21 May 2013 04:05:58 +0000

Today unfurled
like any other day.
School, email, calls,
struggling to write, ack!!!
I’m late for pickup!
Then the sunny soak of a playground afternoon and good conversation.
And coming home to read about Oklahoma
and grieve
and kiss the ground
for another day of this ordinary
most extraordinary
life.

Today felt like a week of Sundays

sitatmytable — Mon, 20 May 2013 03:39:39 +0000

These green days swing lazy.
Little girl does her chores;
I do the dishes.
We do them slowly,
under a spell, savoring the quiet rhythm
of things turning clean.
We go downtown to buy white summer flats;
a blue bathing suit;
rose-scented soap.
We doze in the park as the afternoon
grows long and slanted.
If you catch it just right,
someone will show up with playground buddies,
bread, cheese, and strawberries.
Plus butter lettuce, carrots with the dirt still on,
and siracha.
The world turns itself inside out
with delight,
the richest spread right
there for the taking.

Supper Club

sitatmytable — Sun, 19 May 2013 06:59:06 +0000

It’s delicious.
In so many ways.

Blast off!!!

sitatmytable — Sat, 18 May 2013 05:04:31 +0000

Take a ride
on your Rockit Ship.

Beauteous ones

sitatmytable — Fri, 17 May 2013 04:00:14 +0000

These peonies
traveled to the wilds of the
northwest thanks to some
enterprising young women
from Sauvie Island.
I admired their handwritten sign,
their canny location,
and mostly, the pristine petals
they hawked.
I’m sure they were going to use their earnings
to buy Girl Scout cookies.
Right???

Journey

sitatmytable — Thu, 16 May 2013 06:00:13 +0000

Marveling
tonight
at how far we’ve come.

Rompin’ Stompin’

sitatmytable — Wed, 15 May 2013 07:03:42 +0000

Dinosaur feet.

Yeah.

Rawwwr!!!

Yeah.
Mm.

This sweet ole world

sitatmytable — Tue, 14 May 2013 06:03:45 +0000

Look what the world
will cough up
if you just
peer in close.

In honor of Mary Ann

sitatmytable — Mon, 13 May 2013 03:57:10 +0000

I wrote this post four times,
but deleted them
because to write
about losing a mother (oh god) is to trivialize unforgivably
and also seems unwise
(spit now, quick, three times).

We took flowers to a nursing home today,
because my friend is a beautiful spirit
and her mother loved to visit nursing homes.
It was Mother’s Day.

It was beautiful,
it was awful,
I was inadequate.

How can I express,
without gloating but with full intensity,
that I am so glad to be alive,
and my daughter and mother with me?
I can’t, not elegantly,
but I am, and I love you.

My little grownup

sitatmytable — Sun, 12 May 2013 04:07:05 +0000

After another picnic,
the little girl lounged in the bath
with a rare ramune soda.
She rattled the marble in her bottle.
Mom? I feel like such a grownup.
Here I am,
just restin’, just restin’ here,
drinkin’ my drink,
not doin’ anything else,
just takin’ a bath like grownup.
And the best part was,
she growled it just like Bette Davis.