Sunday, January 15, 2012
Who It Is Accuses Us by Linda Pastan
Blythe, my tiny window sill doll.
Who It Is Accuses Us
By Linda Pastan
Who it is accuses us of safety,
as if the family were soldiers
instead of hostages,
as if the gardens were not mined
with explosive peonies,
as if the most common death
were not by household accident?
We have chosen the dangerous life.
Consider the pale necks of the children
under their colored head scarves,
the skin around the husband's eyes, flayed
by guilt and promises.
You who risk no more than your own skins
I tell you household Gods
are jealous Gods.
They will cover your window sills
with the dust of sunsets;
they will poison your secret wells
From: "Waiting For My Life" by Linda Pastan, page 34
Madness abounds at Casa Dragonfly. We picked up Mama on Thursday. Yesterday Ray had to take her to the ER for a bad cough and chest congestion. Thankfully, she only needed medicine and is doing better today. My nephew's house caught on fire and again, thankfully, he was nearby when the electrical fire started and was able to put it out with minimum damage. Timing....it's all about timing. Had it happened in the middle of the night, they might have lost their lives... All this made me think of the poem above. I'm still deep into the Dark Tower series and loving every single word.
So far, Winter seems to have missed us here in the swamps. Today I saw a butterfly and a lady bug when I was outside. I've never seen either in January. My neighbor's vain Narcissus are blooming prolifically.
I hope it's warm and toasty where you are. :-)
Back to my reading.
"My life has a superb cast but I can't figure out the plot." ~Ashleigh Brilliant