LOVE

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Walking around the kitchen, dining room

She notices words on boxes, objects on the walls

On papers lying around the tables

She hears the sounds, sees images, juxtapositions

She remembers her mother

making wreaths out of corks

She arranges her own

Made of mushrooms and marshmallows, crackers and fruits

She remembers when her mother took her to an art museum

They saw Monet’s paintings of haystacks and water lilies

She remembers her mother

took her and toured a pineapple plantation

She imagines Monet painting

rows and rows of pineapples

How about rows and rows of olive trees

Will he get tired of them?

She wishes she can ask her mother

She will know.

 

Little Things

 

Walking to the river is my quotidian proclimation

A morning with flashes of sharp breeze and exaggerated cloud formations

A fugitive or a caged bird

Life, a quilt floating in time, fertile and vulnerable

Always lacking in certainty

Piecing  parcels together fuels the effort

Ages I scale are experiences of different personalities

Each stage has its own expressions and demands:

Writing, cooking, doing laundry—little  things, mundane and sacred

The progression, a knowing like I felt everything

Fishemen, artists, lactating mothers, even geniuses

Want to live a real life of home.

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