.....

2006-02-06......9:54 a.m.......
the weather, we can talk about it

Did we forget? Is it over, the sensation in the fingers tapping out in code some message to the world I haven't met? I've been tired. i've been lazy. I've been far away from the two dark rooms and one small hallway where I put my mouth into my hands and squeezed. and squeezed.

I have new windows; they face east. It's sunny in St. Louis. The cold Michigan winter where I lived inside the ice and snow, my movements slow, my my tongue heavy, my bones cold, is miles away by at least geography. But I still see it when I close my eyes and breath in the February air to smell damp wool, frozen pavement, and the sharp metallic scent of the freeze. I remember those seasons. Spring came low and heavy with rain until summer brought us to the lakes and in our boats we pushed away from shore. The drinks were easy and they went quickly until we came back again, clinking with empties. The war between small cotton t-shirts and a drawer full of sweaters.

Here now, in my new city and streets, where a muddy brown river takes place of the great lakes, it's all more subtle. The blade is dull and doesn't cut cleanly the quarters of weather. The clouds can be one day and gone the next, unlike the gray ceiling I expect from December to March and early April. I have five rooms all to myself. The only food in the refrigerator is mine, if there's any. The wood floors under my feet, scarred by age and neglect, are warm from the unit below me. My radiator whistles and hums and PING!s a now predictable melody. The air-conditioner waits for over-use. Everything's new, even what isn't. I can walk to the park to feed geese. I can walk to the mass to pray, or to try to pray, or to sit and look up at the tile Christs and Marys arching over the domed ceiling, cielo. But I still check the temperature on the back of the newspaper and wonder how you're getting along.

~~kristin.michelle.dennis

...and all sing in harmony, i am ok...

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