My Girl Sgiob

Had a very hurty leg last spring.
And she’s an old gal and a surgery was not recommended.

So we healed, low and slow,
and painful
and my heart broke.

Yesterday she knew to let me lift her up into the car and back down to earth as we drove to our neighbor’s to mow her lawn.

But daily things are fine. Creaky, but fine.
This morning, she full-speed chased a squirrel.

All is well.

The Three Queens of Summer

have moved westward in their progress
and for now we have a long and genteel farewell.

They are still strong, of course, and opinionated,
and command a goodly portion of the sky.

Their word is given me:
I am to give their bard an instrument.
OK. I’m willing.
Let’s see how this pans out.


They come to visit like long parted besties
Cousins to the reunion
To Granny’s birthday
long after she has become Great-Granny and Great-Great Granny and Ever-So-Great Granny
and has ceased to be embodied as a single woman
still they come,
cousins to the reunion,
her embodiment now.

Not where I thought I was going with this.
Time to listen to some stories.

Watching Dawn Approach

I came out in the dark and in starlight to listen and to make the words go
and now the world is revealing itself to eyes
and there might be texture of grass or tree or stone
but most of all, slowly revealed, are two dark, alert guardians
watching with Mamaidh.

Strange place to be,

this moment,
on the edge,
on the brink of a very deep chasm
and the bottom is very, very dark.

I am absolutely certain that a Very Big Bad is down there.
Very Big.
One of the ones that nightmares are made from,
and I am being pulled by my guts past the edge of the cliff.

But I am a Sparrow
And my grandmothers were Dragons.
And they taught me to fly.

So many

Thoughts, feelings, actions, messages, desires, triumphs, defeats, attempts, champions, wins, moods, niggles, memories, friends, peoples, contraditions, persons, voices,

So many voices.
I must hand them the speaking stone.
I must hear each voice and think on each voice
and respond thoughtfully to each voice
and when they come so thick and fast

I lose my footing.

Right now

Oak carries his brother from the darkness
awkwardly through the gap
then adjusting

Finds him a quiet spot with a gentle one
to tend and wait
while Oak himself must share his strength with many

But ever, the king leans,
so slightly,
perhaps just one iota of attention,
toward the quiet place of Holly.

In this way are the People held,
by twin kings who—in this story at least—
save one another.