I’ve been thinking a lot about the various forms my writing has taken over the past few years — from “in the glint of broken glass” (largely a time capsule), to the chapbook I just completed (poetic memoir, stay tuned!) — to what appears to be simply “bard of the everyday.” This is a piece that pretty much spilled forth at the close of a recent visit to California.
Be on the lookout for those ordinary moments that find their way into your writing. In the spirit of Derek Walcott: "Sit. Feast on your life."
Bucket List
Sunlight on slats of a window shade, birdsong in February. The way these two individuals take care of each other, fill in the blanks of each other. Often, not even through words but rather, a kind of cellular symmetry that has been going on for 56 years. I find myself beguiled with their movement, the ritual in a cup of tea or a bowl of overnight oats. First the oats, be sure they’re rolled, grind the chia seeds, add flax. Don’t forget fragrance of cinnamon, nutmeg, a pinch of cloves. The first night those oats can rest on the counter alongside the sourdough starter. Rest like ink on the page of a love letter. After they rest, refrigerate. Enjoy with a splash of kefir, a dollop of yogurt, your favorite fruit. California has ruined me in that regard. I’ll never taste another blueberry back home without thinking about the texture of a berry that hasn’t traveled miles in a refrigerated truck. My beautiful friends think I’m here because of a bucket list. And that’s true. But I also wanted to see, firsthand, how relationship reflects sunlight. I pursue their voices around the house, my shadow and me, clacking along for company.
I love this!
“A pinch of cloves” and California are two things that I find myself wanting to sit and feast on forever. Enjoyed this snippet from your recent trip Sue Ann!