Catching Time
My older son is off to college sooner than planned. He got an internship and is leaving early next month. It is a wonderful opportunity, I am so glad he got it. It is a terrible thing and I wish it weren’t happening. Both. I have been sighing with relief and weeping at the same time. The orange glow of gratitude as I watch the boys play video games and the sharp catch in my throat at the way that it’s blinking away so quickly. I’m stunned by it. It’s not that it went by so quickly–these were long years of work, and I am still close enough to remember how they stretched–but that I somehow didn’t believe they would end. I’m feeling weepy and emo and also so fucking lucky. I don’t often think of my children as an accomplishment–they are their own accomplishment. But I am really proud of the relationship I have with this kid, the easy laughter and inside jokes and the ongoing conversations about personal things. It seems like in the past few months we’ve been rapidly advancing into something closer to friendship. I wouldn’t trade this for anything. I couldn’t have gotten here if time hadn’t passed. I have to keep telling myself that I might like what’s next even more. I’m just a little tender right now.
This week we’re over at the USO Warrior and Family Center at Ft Belvoir with some of our finest friends. The participants this week are an all-stars-dream-team. Working hard, and supporting one another and laughing and giving guff. They are making paper from military uniforms and will put art and writing on them by Friday. There’s a show on Friday evening (6/15) at 7 pm. You’re invited. There will be snacks & art & poems. Honestly wtf else do you even want?
Check out the event here. Share it widely. Hope to see you.
I had another poem. I had six other poems. But I read “Cyclops” by Lauren Moseley this morning and it’s so perfect. Here it is:
Cyclops
by Lauren Moseley
God said I am a cyclops
in a full-moon voice
One day you will forget
the way geese crease water
Every life is a renaming
We were sailing as if we had
another hour to kill
another hour to live
My name separate
as a severed hand
I’ll always go too far
for a friendly face
a cup of coffee
with a moon of milk
One lens of her glasses fogged
above the mug and she
looked up one-eyed
straight through me
your prompt: “One day you will forget…”
