rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Lyrid

With the shopping done yesterday and a whole Sunday to myself, one would think I would get more done, but only if one didn't know me well. I even woke up pretty early, but somehow the day just vanished in a tide of minutia and lazing. The lupines were sprinkled, the litter box was cleaned, a few chapters of a book were read—well, re-read— and a minor load of laundry was done. That's about it, other than the entertainment I provided the cats, and the entertainment the Internets provided me. I haven't even cooked my dinner yet. I probably ought to have taken a nap, as early tomorrow morning will be the best time to watch the Lyrid meteor shower, and I hope to be awake for it. Then I'll have something by which to remember this otherwise wasted day.

Ah, but the lupines are lovely this year.




Sunday Verse



Wings


by Miroslav Holub


There is
the
microscopic
anatomy

of
the whale
this is
reassuring.

– William Carlos Williams


We have
a map of the universe
for microbes,
we have
a map of a microbe
for the universe.

We have
a Grand Master of chess
made of electronic circuits.

But above all
we have
the ability
to sort peas,
to cup water in our hands,
to seek
the right screw
under the sofa
for hours.

This gives us
wings.


translated by George Theiner
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