Monday, September 29, 2014

Sketches - 29 (September 15th, 2014)

29.

Full on dark-chilled September
                night.
My toddlers wobble across the
living room floor.  
Always a curious trembled
joy when my youngest Jesse is
set free from
the confining play pen.

Izzy chases a blue
        balloon -
    Lowen miraculously
      plays a video game
      at the age of 3 and
                           3 months
      and Jesse grabs   
      an empty cup, covets
      it with each proud
      wobble step of his tiny
                           feet
                           to and from.

I’m getting older every day.  I've resigned
myself to it  I allowed myself
to be fully baptized by the idea of time
and all its furious currents.

Last Sunday I saw
a small group of grey dung
beetles waiting on the
stone wall of the outdoor
steps to the right of the
garage, about 9 of them
gathered there still and pepper-grey
with movements that almost
looked strategic, thought out -
         I was careful not to
         step on them on the
         way to the back door -
         somehow I was repulsed
at the sight -
          imagined my whole body
           covered in these ancient
           mechanical moving
           beetle bugs, legs blurred
           and loathsome crawl.

The earth opens up cold this
fall, the early morning subdues the crickets
and cicadas.  The wiretap and
dot bleeps of a million shaded
corners and valleys that formed the
insect wave antenna is a wave receding -
                        pulling back

and I’m getting older every day.
Nothing to be done about it.  

(September 15th, 2014)
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