RAIN FALLS WITH FORCE this morning, water rushing up to our curb. Sidewalk chalk drawings "melt" under the weight of those mighty drops. There goes an ibis, K's description of a gathering of purple and pink lines etched lightly on concrete. Precocious, bird conscious. Two black cats wait on the porch and the wet breeze spits water at them, the desert willow swaying by the southeastern fence. K woke early again today. Black, cold rooms, half-asleep without my glasses. I stumbled with him in my arms down the hall to comfort him. The air felt heavier, a relief to the brittle northern winter. Spring comes early to us in the South, a warm landing place for the coming babe. Our friend yesterday arrived from San Antonio with her own bundle of light—one-month old. She lay swaddled on hour couch. Woke to nurse. Drifted back into the womb-dreaming unconscious of sleep. K observed her briefly, making a feeble gesture of hello. Jenny kept her close by, sharing with us flaxseed bread. We keep bright hope, extending words. And a black stone sinks through us. An American stone of pure, unknowable cause. Keep a little piece in your pocket. From its weight derives new joy.
Posted by Dale at April 22, 2004 08:58 PM