Requiem

on the umpteenth anniversary
of the strawberry ice cream
and the wild run in the rain,
of her soaked braids over
her beaming face,
of his warm hands holding hers,
nothing remains -

a few shreds of hearts
that any wind takes.

photo art from viktaar.deviantart.com

In my Garden

Little eerie kingdoms of beauty grace the shadows. I dream of being ant sized, about to walk through an enchanted forest,



gather fragrant pearls splattered on gowns of chlorophyll,



or hide unknown under a mallard’s wing and contemplate the world from the perspective of the spring sky.



Have a beautiful weekend, everyone!

Nothing

This little thing’s been somehow inspired by Karen’s “Ain’t Got No” and “The House of the Poet", although she's definitely got it and I'm looking for it... :-)

This is not a forget-me-not, but I liked this blue flower growing out of nowhere on a white beach in Mexico, last summer...

nobody comes
to this barren county,
no flash flood fingers
patter these deep canyons,
no rain drops
kiss this dust.
wary weary birds
take detours
over greener landscapes,
the sky is a cobweb
in the corner of
a condemned room.
the groundskeeper is
almost dead,
unpaid,
very sad;
he’s still rummaging
for his blue flower,
his forgotten forget-me-not,
somewhere among the rocks
of his life,
somewhere among the debris
of his time.
he can’t even compose
a damn’ travel guide.

Another Blogiversary

This baby is two years old today.

Hard to believe, in a way, that it has happened and that it’s still going on.

I would like to thank all of my dear blogfriends for their graceful presence and their unrelenting support. You are the pillars on which this (mostly) imaginary world is built.

Onward to another year.

Too Close to Home

When an evil menaces or touches others, obviously there is compassion, concern, even pain that we feel, but all are somehow cushioned by the relatively safe distance from which we think we can witness the events.

This past Saturday, we got a phone call from the Public Health department (or something like that) to inform us that there’s a confirmed case of swine influenza at my older daughter’s school, and not just in her school but in her very class.

I won’t try to describe the sinking feeling that swept over us – I can do that in fiction but not in real life.

The woman who called had a very professional voice, very calm, impassionate; she described symptoms, told us what to do, etc. etc. What she wouldn’t tell was the name of the sick child. I think that the protection of privacy is badly used in this case because knowing who it is would also help us know if our daughter was in contact with that child.

While I understand the need to keep panic under control, I don’t understand the serenity of these people after all the fuss from the media and the World Health Organisation. Is it a real threat or is it not? Anyway, I don’t understand why the school – this is a private school - is not closed and how all they’re offering is a “team of doctors and nurses” to greet the children in the morning and explain to them what to do (i.e. how to wash their hands).

Well, as many other parents did, I’m sure, we decided to keep our daughter home for a while, until things are sorted out, one way or another. She’s a bit worried about missing school, but not too much. After all, she gets to watch her favourite movies all over again (this morning she was watching the third instalment of the “Pirates of the Caribbean”)…