photo by Gerard McGovern

January 15, 2025

Another day where nothing went as planned, nothing horrible happened, just nothing happened the way it was supposed to.  It started with me going to order some fuel only to find out my phone wasn't working because I hadn't paid the bill.  I went to pay the bill only to find my wallet wasn't in the house.  EJ went out to the car and brought it in and I paid the phone bill, ordered the fuel and found out my long standing date with my other godchild had been scheduled for the wrong day this weekend.  It went on like that all day, ending with David's car breaking down on his way to bring me to dinner.  I ate grilled cheese and avocado and made baked apples.  You see, everything turned out ok it just didn't happen as planned.  And I am exhausted tonight, exhausted by the need to change direction.   Of course the most difficult part for me is that once again I didn't get any photos.

photo by Kathryn
Kathryn photographed my late lunch.  
And I had hoped I would get one of the moon and mars, but alas,
so here is a poem for the evening.  I'm trying to establish this new schedule, starting at the y 5 mornings a week, taking pictures, and keep this blog daily.  Give me a couple more weeks to get it smooth, but know I'm trying.  I also have to say that I feel so grateful today.  I feel sadness and grief, but I also am very grateful for so much in my life.  
Hope your evening is good.  Here's the poem.

As You Sail Away

 

I’ve stopped asking for your hands

Not that I’ve stopped wanting

them to clutch on to my shoulders.

I’ve stopped wanting them to be mine,

you automatically knowing

where your thumb

fits to release that

tiresome ache on

either side of my spine.

 

I stopped assuming

that touch was a normal

part of our day

your arms, your mouth

they are slowly going away.

 

My life has come to another stop,

another time of change,

a time to embrace newness

accept that the small

handmade sailboat of my

life is unmoored,

anchor has been placed

on deck and it is drifting

away from me

with your hands,

                   your smile

                   your mouth

aboard a

paper sail

upon the lake in Central Park.

 

I want to ask you

for one more time

I want to ask you

for gentle warm up

and fire crescendo

and sweat and tears

in a final grasp,

 

But I know too well

I’d just want more.

I’d want to do it

again and again

until we do it right

when to grab

when to buck

when to hold you too tight

when to roll away.

 

I want to learn to

make you gasp

or smile as you

kiss my face.

 

But I know all of that

is on that tiny boat

moving away.




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