Hitting Send

My dearest, today was quiet and seemingly uneventful, but as I sit up here in the aerie at this hour I realize that it actually contained a number of small discoveries. This morning I was rummaging through my computer files and happened on a poem that I wrote last year and had completely forgotten about. My poems (I almost hesitate to call them that, such a formal term, scary to me sometimes) are accidental, spontaneous affairs. I start at a dot, a phrase, a given, a gift, and follow from there. The file was in a blog folder that I had started that I don't save things to anymore. Why didn't I post it to my blog at the time? Really, I have no idea. But coming on it today - I liked it (and recognized it as something I did write) - and thought it related well enough to themes of late - plus on this day I turned the page on my botanical calendar.

On my walk this afternoon, ominously there was a series of large white, now mudcovered feathers on the side of the road. If there had been just one, I might epically have thought eagle, hawk, whatever. But the scattering of them, in that spot on the road - snow goose. Sinking feeling. On my return, I ran into not the Gang of Five - but four. The one with the damaged - missing - eye. Gone. Hope I'm not reading too much into things, that it's just the Great Screenwriter in the Sky removed him or her back to Props. In which case, I suppose, I shouldn't worry. But that particular goose, with its obvious blind side, is, I hope, not a metaphor for me.

What else? Went into Salon, haven't been there in a while (so many inputs, some get let go). And discovered that someone has made, and blog-journaled about, a film called City Island, filmed on City Island in the Bronx, a former stomping ground of mine. Clamdiggers and musselsuckers - ah, yes, the divided brain...

Then on KZE I heard Matt the Electrician sing oh so beautifully Faithfully, which I've heard before of course, and which I take very personally. I'm downloading the YouTube now, which I see was recorded August 16, 2009. My 50th birthday. Okay - I've totally busted myself (I was beginning to surmise that You're So Vain was about me, and frankly it was a relief to learn it's about David Geffen. But boy, she sure seems to be looking at me directly in that HuffPo photo, and you & I did have that rather epic "swim" in her old pool). My first thought was - ha! my birthday! But then I realize it was also the Giffords', not to mention the King of R&R's death. Oh heck, I'm into these angelwing conspiracy theories. Thank you for thinking of me on that day.

Blowing out the candles, now.

P.S. KZE is playing Sweet Home Chicago now. My one & only visit there also, was a complete disaster. I was so afraid of flying (less so, perhaps, now) that in my scatteredness left my handbag - containing so many essentials, plus cash & credit cards - on the plane which by the time I realized that I'd been a little too literal & dutiful in stowing all underneath my seat, had already departed - on time, I'm sure - for Indianapolis. That jaunt was quite the Niobic weepfest, on the architectural river tour up whatever ribbon of water that was...

Kisses, darling.