Coyote and the Moon

It comes to me in waves. These last few weeks have been a blur, for no reason. This morning I woke up at 7:22, Laura and Jack are gone for now and were gone when I woke, so I decided to take a walk. It was kind of planned out already, I hadn't thought about it, but I knew the second that I opened my eyes that I would do it. It was kindly and beautiful. If only I could build a temple every place that I visited, thats what I'm working on now. Creating finds me on these days, and I am grateful for it.

Last nights full moon put me on edge. It seems that I took the role of Coyote, one that I am familiar with, perhaps I am now. It was an interesting night and I barely said a word. This is a poem that I wrote at some point:


Dewey Finds a Lover


I want to fall in love with a librarian
But communicate solely through
"Chat With a Librarian"
Which I am told should never be used
As a dating service
She would not wear spectacles
And correct all of my spelling errors.

I get offended when knowledge is lorded over
I get offended when My Librarian doesn't
Return texts.

Careful Frank came down the stairs
He wore spectacles.
Careful Frank, your poor slippers, padding
Like Clifford the dog, big tongue

The Librarian sips Orangina, her straw is clear
My Librarian has broad shoulders
She swaggers, she limps, gold leaves
My Librarian collects beautiful images.

When she reads to me, My Librarian lets her hair go
And she laughs, and I laugh, I am reminded
That this is a love story
For once
And when this new winter comes, I will
Stow my summer dresses under Milan Kundera
He sits like a prince on my frock.
I tell him I don't like feminists
He doesn't look surprised, I have a traitor face
He says he wishes I were real
And I respond in the same
Before My Librarian comes home for lunch


These are pictures from my walk this morning












I do have more to say, I wont say it. Yet.