I went to the park
to watch the daisies grow.
How green and strong in springtime light.
I thought of you
and named a daisy Gracie.
As I sat and joined in song
I could’ve sworn the daisy watched me.
I left the park just then
feeling like the world
was pollinating again.
I’m not certain today, if Gracie is still Earth bound. I do know that she has been straddling the line between here and gone. It’s been hard, as it has always been hard, for me to wrap my mind around death. Death has shown up as several characters in the play of my life. The first of significance was our family dog, Sheba. After that, I remember little of the human or animal departures, aside from flashes in my mind. Until 1990. My friend Ed.
Death seems to come so fast and furious now. Chalk it up to my aging human form. My Godfather died last month. Len and Rod were partners for almost as long as I’ve been aboard planet Earth. Now he’s gone. Death kills the living, I believe. It kills a piece of me every time.
Gracie, though. I fancied her invincible. She kicked my ass, knocked me down and broke into my soul. I’m not sure if I hate her for that. I’m not sure about love at all, really. I can’t decide why love makes sense. I hate this suffocating, choking state I’m in. Would I trade the loving for the hurting? I can’t answer that just yet.
All I know is that I can’t save Gracie, or her Mom. And this reality angers me into shutting it all down…
So here’s what I heard on vacation…
… Oops, in trying to relate the sounds of hearing, I heard seven things that belie the truth of what I heard. Because really, I heard this…
…Damn it! I screwed it up again! Hear nothing, is what I’m trying to say. Here is more than-way more than nothing. Ever heard nothing? No. Me either. Until Hornby. Until I got loose of my city vibe, my shitty vibe. Hear ye, here ye. So let’s try again, me.
Hear this…A cow bird. Gracie whining cuz’ mama’s done gone fo’ a bit. A homeless yet entrepreneurial wasp, chewing the cabin post. A deep inhale of American smoke. The crisp departure of unenamored feet. The sizzle of wings just ready to eat. The buzz of bees so close to the sheets. The cawing of ravens who’re ready for meat.
Do not hear this…Air conditioners and suv’s. Sirens, trains and flat t.v.’s. Sodium lamps and angry squirrels. Feral cats and human perils. 4th of July shenanigan crackers, pops and bangs and homeless wackers.
The noise of San Marco that I most usually tune out, is the antithesis of a cacauphony that Hornby’s without.
Can you hear me now? I sincerely hope not. The silence will unnerve you. But it most surely will serve you.
Ya heard dat?
Gracie brought me down.
Yup. She brought down this one hundred sixty pound woman.
Brought the smackdown to this five foot eight, girl unexpecting…
