I’ve come back to the country where I was happy

changed. Passion puts no terrible strain on me now.

I wonder what will take the place of desire.

I could be the ghost of my own life returning

to the places I lived best. Walking here and there,

nodding when I see something I cared for deeply.

Now I’m in my house listening to the owls calling

and wondering if slowly I will take on flesh again.

Linda Gregg 1942 –

(From A Book of Luminous Things edited by Milosz, 1996)

I am not fond of several of the poems found in the chapter titled Women’s Skins – some of them portrayed a very discouraging view of aging, of women.  This one, however, catches the essence of aftermath.  At least for this reader.

IMG_1069August evening at Iona Park.

And now, lets lighten up a tad shall we? (The seriousness of the poem does not reflect any serious goings on in our house – but my goodness, I love this set of words and the way they reflect, and evoke.)


Knitting up the odds and ends. This project is leftover BFL/silk handspun done up into a nice scarf. This will go into the donation pile with all those hats. It is very satisfying to use up those balls of yarn that remain from other projects. Of course, that leaves some room in the stash for some more. The circle of life, crafting life that is.

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