augury doggerel

Monday, August 04, 2003


The kid and I set up tent in the grass this Sunday morning. I moved a snail and a spider, she pounded stakes with a wrench (where's the hammer?), and we settled, she into books and crayons, I into grass under a bush with snails and tea. I brought a slice of tomato on a saucer for my slick friends but they had no appetite today. Then a spider, a spider on Hollywood legs, dropped in and buried her face in the tomato flesh, rubbed her face left and right in it, walked away and came back two more times, an artist at someone else's opening. The biggest snail, cool and the size of a thumb, slipped down my own warm thumb and crossed my palm with silver.

But the kid was hot in her tent and thinking of spiders, so we went to the woods, walked over our sledding hills, remembered screaming down winter. While we stood and listened, squirrels dropped nuts through the leaves, slip slip bump, some freshly split and half-eaten. There's one in my pocket. In the sun, over a slope of white yarrow, hundreds of dragonflies (the kid said 49) stopped and started us, sured in the air with big shadows. At least a thousand dragonflies and this exacting girl.


Post a Comment

<< Home