Sunday morning coming down
It's another drizzlegrey Portland day.
A part of me misses the clear sharp thin Interstate sun between Laramie and Rawlins, the incessant sandblast roar of ground blizzards, the uneasy backseat understanding that life is a delicate ricepaperpaper thing.
G told me about two magpies in the trees yesterday: they were quiet, picking things from the branches in the cold. I thought about how their racousness could give way to tenderness sometimes.
And I remembered the gang of them in the field by the donut shop on Tudor: the adults swooping down and landing on top of the plywood sign, the fledgelings overshooting and tumbling in the twilight grass. Learning.
List:
A part of me misses the clear sharp thin Interstate sun between Laramie and Rawlins, the incessant sandblast roar of ground blizzards, the uneasy backseat understanding that life is a delicate ricepaperpaper thing.
G told me about two magpies in the trees yesterday: they were quiet, picking things from the branches in the cold. I thought about how their racousness could give way to tenderness sometimes.
And I remembered the gang of them in the field by the donut shop on Tudor: the adults swooping down and landing on top of the plywood sign, the fledgelings overshooting and tumbling in the twilight grass. Learning.
List:
- miso paste
- wakame (or kombu)
- umeboshi
posted by Fourbank at 11:59 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home