one love

my favorite holiday ... and my middle name

scrambling for a short "love" story this morning to read aloud as a bell-ringer, i recalled tim patterson's 'running with zelda' (scroll down to monday, feb 4) and laughed out loud as i printed off a classroom set. even more fun was coming up with questions to go with it. when i get a chance, i'll post them.

nothing eventful tonight - haven't slept since monday so looking forward to being horizontal, even if it is alone. have a pomegranate and some cheap red wine to tuck me in. maybe i'll send another email down that dead end street. or maybe i'll just put on some memories to listen to while i drift away; a little direction never hurt any dreamer ...

this is a short poem i wrote a few years ago on a napkin pressed against the dashboard, knees steering the wheel, on my way to jack's hot dog stand in north adams. the rain always helps me to write. it reminds me of my dad. rain, not the poem. the poem reminds me of you.

lauryn hill is killing me softly on the radio
the canvas above is gray and filled with questions
hard to say whether the sun is coming up
or slowly going down
yet you seem to love these unpredictable spring storms
they are nice for long walks, and
the getting out of casual apathy
affection blossoming before conviction
or perhaps just another dry season ....

i drive away through the rain, my palm caressing high noon
carefully sliding along the steering wheel
remembering the soft curve of your thigh
looking forward to the warm, wet
raindrops embracing the windshield
where i allow them to lie
like your kisses
preferring to not see clearly for the moment
and simply watch the water fall
landing like tears on a glass cheek
then running away
looking for the casual designs left behind in their wake
recognizing my own arbitrary path
gaining speed, but losing substance
dragging the rest of my life behind it ....