making beds
instead
of writing poetry
there only
comes
a title
enter Zelva
with a czech
‘z’
that sounds
like
‘zj’
what does it mean
when your eight year old
is struggling
in the morning
with shorts that are too big
you’re making pancakes
but thinking of that book
you want to write
if only there was time
there’s that
slow
moving
turtle
in the backyard
the one that just
showed up one day
making you all
pause
stop
and stare
observing
every hint
of movement
each one
counting
so very much
enter Zelva
putting us all
in some sort
of meditative
state
wondering
about the world
inside her shell
I don’t know what any of it means. I simply record the details.
And yesterday held a series of unusual occurrences for the archives.
There were some interesting discoveries. I spotted a “twin” avocado growing on our backyard tree.
Jessica Dofflemyer
And the Bohemian found a turtle. From whence it came we do not know, but there she was beneath the puakinikini tree. Like first time parents, the two of us were working by headlamp in the dark, filling a kiddie pool with water and building ramps, after our online search revealed this turtle needed to be submerged in water in order to eat.
photo courtesy of The Bohemian
I also received a box of vitamins in the mail accompanied with my order of cacao powder, which had burst open in transit. The unpacking ritual left the house coated in a dusting of brown, the scent of chocolate in the air.
At sunset a friend stops by the house for a beer. The Bohemian and I are still watching the very slow movements of our newly adopted turtle. We take a break to watch the sun go down and they tell me I still have cacao powder on my forehead. By sundown, we three decide – what the heck – how about pancakes for dinner?
The first day of June 2012. Turtles, double avocados, sifting through chocolate, pancakes and beer.
I wake
open the door
to fresh morning light
seeping on to
the plumeria tree
outside
the one the Bohemian’s been watering
it overflows in flowers
too much to hold
blooms sprinkle and fall
in the slightest breeze
besides observing the evidence
of prolific irrigation
I’m roused by the faint
onset of early traffic
from the nearby
high way
I sift through dreams
of wedding dresses that are too big
and question
whether the Von Trapp family
really walked out of Austria
to escape
I make summertime vows
to learn to sew
so I can wear what I want
wonder if a second cup of coffee
at 5:57am
is inappropriate
think about my girlfriends
who’ve been married for ten years
and how they muster up enthusiasm
for my recent engagement
but I can feel
it’s a tired, trying hope
I wonder at these postings
a potpourri of words
just flashes of passing thought forms
portending
or haphazard?
abundant flowers
an oversized dress
the sound of music
stimulants
and the seven-year itch
It’s a Tuesday
this morning
as the Shama sings
and all in my house
still sleep
For the Archives 