Night Time Musings
GOD IS A HUMAN CONSTRUCT
AND THERE IS NO SUCH ” THING”
AS TIME
GOD IS A HUMAN CONSTRUCT
AND THERE IS NO SUCH ” THING”
AS TIME
Last week eye dressed up
And bought a car to go with
What eye was wearing
Eye have one remnant of Dr Blair
and that’s his cat —
Cami is the name she came with
from the pound — a ginger calico —
so now I give her ferocious pettings
complete with a little song
and no longer care
if he ever sees her again
My time in bed is
My time alone listening:
French music, wind, birds
What does my house contain?
Walls plastered with art
mine and my friends
5 cats
my mother’s furniture
what’s left of it
The makings of a life anew
minus one second husband
and out every window
views of the great
Atlantic
Eye eat my Greek salad
sitting upon the tomato–coloured couch
with a giant bowl under my chin
like a shelf
Eye am by myself
and my step-mother died today
in California–her last word to me was “fascinating “
and my mother died
28 years ago
here in Nova Scotia–her last word was “remember”
and my daughter called from Quebec
to ask how
do Eye feel
Written March 15, 2021
Eye am housed
in a high house of odd design
where from my top view
Eye can watch heavenly clouds
gleaming above the ocean
Eye am the proverbial princess
Girl Who Has Everything
except a boyfriend
or should that be “Prince”
Where is my independence?
This afternoon I sat
again on The Tomato–coloured Couch
this time to read
my collection of poems
written from It
going back seven years or more
and how have I matured?
The marriage I mentioned is over
The cats we had are still here
minus one
and what of my frame of mind?
Black Jesus and The Silver Christ
have recessed
and here I sit again
listening to the French radio station
alone in my musings
unsure of my future.
Eye have been content
up in My Corner Room overlooking
The Atlantic, watching the weather
with the cats —
it was sunny minutes ago
but now a snow squall has moved in
I’ll go make some tea
“Astro, who was that man?”
Who was that man I met in the library
in Meteghan?
That man who took me
to Sip Cafe
and held my hand
saying he was 500 years old?
He smelled of wood smoke
like my son
and kissed my hairband
when I asked if he was married.
“Astro, who was that man?”
Who took me to Halifax
for Valentine’s Day
to eat chicken Spanakopita
to contemplate skating
when we said we were from Digby
incognito
I in my long white fake fur coat
and long red sparkly scarf
elaborate
he in his black Columbia
worn for the first time
a daughter’s gift
“Astro, who was that man?”
Who read my essay on Jealousy
and brushed my hair
and looked at me with reverence?
We walked the beach
when we got home
bundled up
and I darned his sock
and fixed the snags
in his Irish dark blue sweater
the colour of his eyes.
“Astro, who was he?”
