Updated my blog template (the things we do when we're procrastinating on other things *cough* taxes *cough*), though I didn't make any really drastic changes -- but I did finally move over to Blogger's widget system. I added a few things over in the right-hand sidebar. I may have accidentally dropped a few blog links when I did it, as I kept getting distracted by various things (email, cats, snow... yes, snow) so if your blog isn't over there and it should be, please do let me know!
I have two poems in the new issue of fiore, which is available around & about Bloomington. If you're not in the vicinity and you want a copy, you can contact the editors; or, if you prefer, drop me a note (ahaines at gmail dot com) and as long as my supply holds out I'd be happy to drop one in the mail for the cost of postage and a big envelope. Couple bucks, maybe.
Here's one of my two:
Some days I can’t even wear my clothes
without getting them muddy, or bloody,
or losing my jewelry,
or tripping over my own shoes like a fool.
Days like that, I wish I could
be unclothed without being naked,
sleek as a minke whale, protected
as a swift fish.
I would fly from morning into night
and introduce myself to angels,
relying on their forbearance
and the skeleton key of my own name.
Then I notice the stain
on my collar, ink on my sleeve,
the undarned sock where my toe pokes out
and I stumble back to earth
where every rise
and set, each transit of the stars,
hurtles past outside the confines
of my stunningly limited grace.
first published in fiore, issue 2, March/April 2009
* * * * *
The other night, shortly before midnight, I heard a great horned owl outside my window -- so close and so loud that I heard it even with the TV on and all the windows closed. So clear that the younger cat perked up his ears and made his eyes all big and sat reeeeeeeeal still for a minute. It hoo-huh hoo-hoooooo'd about every thirty seconds for close to half an hour before a noisy car went by and either scared it away or made it decide to hush up. I'm right smack in town, half a block from a fairly busy four-lane road; it's not unheard-of for me to hear owls around here, but this was by far the closest and the loudest. I went out into the back yard and though I didn't manage to see it, I did pin down the exact tree it was sitting in.
If I notice any missing bunnies, now I know who took 'em.
It was quite remarkable, though. I don't know what it was going on about, but it was calling very persistently for a while. Pretty cool.