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rejectomorph

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Clear [Feb. 12th, 2017|08:09 pm]
rejectomorph
It was a well night perfect day as far as the weather goes— mild and only partly cloudy, with the softest of breezes bringing the scent of pines and growing grass. A harbinger of spring. The woodpeckers pecked, the cats dozed, and the three rose buds that have been suspended in some sort of rose limbo for weeks actually opened a bit. I don't think those roses will ever fully bloom, though. They had to wait too long and are probably damaged. But we shall see.

The streams I crossed on the way to and from the stores were flowing robustly. Even the ditch that runs alongside the main road a block west of my street had running water in it. It will probably dry up pretty fast, but the other streams will continue strong through the mild spell and get more water when the next set of storms starts coming through on Wednesday. Also, tomorrow is now expected to be mostly cloudy and a lot cooler than today was, but Tuesday is still expected to be clear and mild.

The nephew did manage to pay back most of the money he owed me, so I didn't have to do the triage on my shopping list after all. I still missed out on an item that was sold out, and for which I forgot to get a rain check, and an item that I just totally forgot to buy at the other store. Maybe I can pick them up on my way home from the chiropractor's office Tuesday afternoon. For now I can easily do without them.

I've got frozen stuff to heat up for dinner. I will go do that now, and check on the feral cats while it's cooking. The one who was missing for a few days after what was probably a fight is now back and recuperating. Oddly he's friendlier toward me now than he was before. The other cats are a bit miffed at the attention he's getting, but they'll get over it.




Sunday Verse



[LOVE CLIMBED BETWEEN US]


by Miguel Hernandez

Love climbed between us
like the moon between two trees
that have never embraced.

The hidden murmur of our bodies
surged toward a lullaby,
but the voice was hoarse and tortured.
The lips were stone.

The longing to clasp aroused the flesh,
exalting the fevered bones,
but the arms, stretching out,
withered as they were.

Love passed between us like the moon
and devoured our lonely bodies.
And we are two ghosts who seek one another
and meet far off.

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