Haiku #210

In your cut-off life
you resemble reptile ancestors,
Little Bird

I was coming back from the mailbox this steamy afternoon, my eyes on the ground and lost in dreamy thought, when I saw this little bird. I don't know how it got there; it wasn't near a tree. I went inside and got my camera. Because I was in such a dreamy state, I didn't think to mark to place, so it took me a while to find the bird again. It was only ten minutes or so, but in that brief time, the body had already changed. It was more limp and the head had fallen into the rocks. I know a lot of people will think it morbid of me to be so fascinated with this dead creature, but I find beauty in it.

To Old Chucky

My father-in-law's funeral is today. His name was Charles. He had been ill with cancer for some time and outlived his doctor's prognosis by more than two years. The final two weeks were hard. He died a hard death.

When he was still feeling reasonably well, he told Allen that after he was gone he wanted us to have a glass of wine together. He wanted us to make a toast to him, saying, "To Old Chucky, wherever he is."

He last words to me were that he was ready to go. He also said he wanted Allen and me to enjoy our trip out west this summer.

Those statements were helpful and erased any guilt about going on the trip. The trip out west is something we have dreamed about for a long time. I was thinking the experience might add to the novel I've been working on. I was hoping to work on the novel "on the road."

It is hard on a man, losing his father. Allen said that taking care of his father during the last days was a spiritual experience. He said he wouldn't take a million dollars for the experience. He also said no one could pay him a million dollars to do it again.

Northfork

I watched the movie Northfork again today.

"And in that journey of dying, you see many things. But all of the issues I had are past, because I was to be a witness, a helper. And that is the thing I think is important about death, is the ability for us to be witnesses, not only for a person coming in, but of going out. And that is what we have here–we’ve lost our time, it’s gone. But maybe there is a birth someplace else. Maybe there is a blessing from that experience. I’m no longer afraid of death; but it’s a lesson that has taken me sixty years to learn." (Father Harlan, Northfork)
http://theresawilliams-author.blogspot.com/2006/04/northfork.html

In the News

I just heard:

Rest in peace Robert Rauschenberg.

Strange Days

What a strange few days it has been. My mother-in-law died. I dislike the term, "mother-in-law," but it answers the question of relationship. I shall not say much, except what is obvious. We are all sad.

Meanwhile, my trip to California is coming up quickly. Some of the luster is gone because of the family tragedy. Allen even mentioned not wanting to go. My desire faltered as well. However, we are going. I will be teaching writing workshops again at Esalen in Big Sur. I have been looking forward to it for several months. Ultimately, I am happy to have the opportunity to see the Pacific Coast again. Brian (our son) will be living here and watching our animals.

My story "Trash" just came out in The Sun which has a new website. You can look at the contributor's notes of the issue that my story is in if you click >here<

Speaking of websites, for some weeks I have been trying to put together a website for myself. I had basically finished it except for a page where links got ruined. They still work but look bad. Now the site won't let me fix anything; it just keeps prompting me to make a new blog. I can't even delete the one I just finished. Oh dear. Maybe this is what I get for using a free service.

Strange days, strange days.

Posting is likely to be irregular until I get back on my pony again.

Skeletons

For the 5,000 year old lovers unearthed in VALDARO, Italy:

Resurrection
by Emily Dickinson

'T was a long parting, but the time
For interview had come;
Before the judgment-seat of God,
The last and second time


These fleshless lovers met,
A heaven in a gaze,
A heaven of heavens, the privilege
Of one another's eyes.


No lifetime set on them,
Apparelled as the new
Unborn, except they had beheld,
Born everlasting now.

Was bridal e'er like this?
A paradise, the host,
And cherubim and seraphim
The most familiar guest.