Saturday, September 26, 2009

What We Found

It was getting near sunset this evening when I told Allen I was going to walk the trails in our field. He'd just taken the mower down there and they were fresh-cut. He decided to come along and so did the dogs.

About a third of the way down, we heard Uno, one of our cats wailing, trying to find us. We stopped and called to him and he came bounding to us through the weeds. He's just a beautiful black and white cat. He was just a kitten when we first moved here. We used to walk the field then, too, with his mother, an all black cat, and other strays that we adopted.

I picked Uno up and carried him, which is what he wanted. He frequently follows us to the mailbox for the same purpose. He will keep cutting in front of us until we give him a ride back to the house. He brother, Dozer, was like this, too.

Allen used to pick Dozer up and put him inside the hood of his jacket and carry him that way. Dozer has been dead a long time. He was killed out on our highway. So was their brother, Spotty. Uno and Stinky (his sister) are the only two left of a once-thriving family of cats.

The field is so beautiful right now. The white of the Queen Anne's lace has given way to yellows and purples. Once in a while, during our walk in the field, I'd have to shift Uno from one arm to another, as he's a pretty heavy cat. His claws would dig into me because he thought I was going to put him down. He didn't want that.

We were on the last leg of the trail when I looked down and saw something white, a skull. It was recently cracked, probably by the mower wheel. "What is it?" I asked Allen. But as soon as he turned it over, I knew.

"It's a cat," he said.

Two of ours had disappeared this summer.

Uno jumped from my arms and smelled the skull. Then he sat there next to it, looking. We started walking again but he stayed there. I turned frequently to look back at him. Each time I looked, I saw him sitting completely still, just looking the skull.

One of the cats that disappeared this summer was his mother.

Monday, September 14, 2009

New Website

Slowly...slowly...building...a...new...website...here http://theresawilliams.wordpress.com/

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Haiku #244

late summer crickets
make perfect sound of December
sleigh bells just listen

Haiku #243

Tired? Don't go to bed
go outside make a fire against
the darkness instead

Haiku #242

Newly mown field green
smelling sweet four buzzards circle
eyes to the ground

Page a day: Ikkyu

Sweet Pea in her new water vest.
(A humorous take on Ikkyu)

I'm alive! right? don't we say that?
we don't see the bones we walk on
--Ikkyu

Haiku #241


Seagulls fly over the Maumee

I took this photo with my old point and shoot camera. I wished I had my SLR with me because there was a moment when the scene was all birds, wing tip to wing tip. By the time the point and shoot got fired up, the most beautiful part of the show was over.




Late summer we ready

our boat on shore a crow laughs

at us from his tree

Friday, September 11, 2009

Page a day: Ikkyu




pleasure pain are equal in a clear heart
no mountain hides the moon--Ikkyu

Sunday, September 06, 2009

Haiku #240

Autumn grasshoppers
jump away in waves this one lands
in my cupped hand

Finished, or almost

Finished, or almost finished, an essay I was working on tonight. I'll let it set a few days and see. I know where I'd like to submit it; they aren't accepting new submissions until the 15th anyway, so there's time to spare.

Page a day: Ikkyu

Tonight I was able to just catch the moon as it was rising over the airstream.

night after night after night stay up all night
nothing but your own night --Ikkyu

Friday, September 04, 2009

Page a day: Ikkyu

Inside the Airstream. Through an opening in the screen door.

if there's nowhere to rest at the end
how can I get lost on the way?
--Ikkyu

Page a day: Ikkyu

I've been trying to read one page a day of Ikkyu's poems, but they so often stop me because I can't quit thinking about one before going to the next. I could only manage to read one tonight:

don't hesitate get laid that's wisdom
sitting around chanting what crap

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Dreaming

Dreaming

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Northwest Ohio, United States
"I was no better than dust, yet you cannot replace me. . . Take the soft dust in your hand--does it stir: does it sing? Has it lips and a heart? Does it open its eyes to the sun? Does it run, does it dream, does it burn with a secret, or tremble In terror of death? Or ache with tremendous decisions?. . ." --Conrad Aiken

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Epistle, by Archibald MacLeish

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Fave Painting: Eden

Fave Painting:  Eden

Fave Painting: The Three Ages of Man and Death

Fave Painting:  The Three Ages of Man and Death
by Albrecht Dürer

From the First Chapter

The Secret of Hurricanes : That article in the Waterville Scout said it was Shake- spearean, all that fatalism that guides the Kennedys' lives. The likelihood of untimely death. Recently, another one died in his prime, John-John in an airplane. Not long before that, Bobby's boy. While playing football at high speeds on snow skis. Those Kennedys take some crazy chances. I prefer my own easy ways. Which isn't to say my life hasn't been Shake-spearean. By the time I was sixteen, my life was like the darkened stage at the end of Hamlet or Macbeth. All littered with corpses and treachery.

My Original Artwork: Triptych

My Original Artwork:  Triptych

Wishing

Wishing

Little Deer

Little Deer

Transformation

Transformation

Looking Forward, Looking Back

Looking Forward, Looking Back
CURRENT MOON

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