toad

oh toad 

toad in the road

I saw you as I passed by today 

you were still 

and hunkered tight down

to the pavement as my hound

oblivious

passed you by

and me with my green rainboots scratching scraping past

in heavy post storm thick

and I thought

fear

fear keeps you down close and still until we have passed and the way becomes

safe

and I wonder at such simplicity as I fear such complex details as 

numbers

and papers

and 

ugh

tomorrow

do you know tomorrow toad?

On the way back you were still there you dumb thing.

And my dog, 

he found smelled and wanted you 

delicious snack

and strained at his lead

a man picked you up and tossed you

unceremoniously into the bushes

did you live grey toad

or did you break.

And I walked on. 

Fearing my numbers and my papers and my tomorrows.

of pugs and parties and all things good 

While elder is at drama day camp, younger and I fill our days slowly with the warm pace of summer.

She loves going to doggie hill, an off leash area of our local park to seek out puppies she can follow and squish with little girl adoration. 

Yesterday was the best. A man came into the park with a pug puppy who she held for at least an hour. Squealing and cooing and smiling the biggest smile, she was inarticulate with cuteness overload and could but say mummy look look at de puppiiiiiieeeeee.

As I watched my hound roll in the dirt, mock fighting and snarling with a blond dog, exhausting himself with play.

A party last night for one of elders close friends. She as well turned twelve, and as we adults laughed and ate at the kitchen table they ran with and frolicked with each other. No snarling or mock fighting but with the same loose ease with which the dogs played.

I envy them their passage at this time, yet at the same time recognize that their lives hold challenges and journeys as yet unseen.

But for now, it was a sunset and chocolate birthday cake.

Soundtrack

I walked this morning with the dog. 

I was quiet. And I started to listen.

very closely to the soundtrack of my walk.

I could hear his huff and pant as he ran past 

and the thud of his heavy adolescence

occasionally the click of a nail as it hit pavement

on the trails it is only the huff the pant and the thud

no click of nails in the dirt

muted by soil

I reached out a bit more and became aware of other dogs panting

sometimes behind 

sometimes beside

then in front

and the sound they made going past

there

here 

now gone

I heard my breath

And reminded myself in my hearing to breathe deeply

to remember to take in air

as it feels like I hold my breath these days

submerged

in the distance I could hear people calling their dogs

or their children

and the children's voices floated back higher

lighter 

lighter than air

all around people walked alone 

or with

or in groups 

I did not listen to the words of their talking 

ebbing and flowing with distance

but turned the voices instead into a song

riding on a wave

letting it wash over me

Now I sit and I hear the hundred year old lilac tree 

behind me creak against the wood of the deck

birds

wind

someone just slammed a car door

and my dog chews on a toy

overhead a plane 

and the sky is 

oh so blue

I hear my heart

held firm

in my mouth

beating rodent fast 

on my tongue

I will it to quiet

and rest easy in my chest.

don't worry 

breathe deep I say to myself

there is a place for you in this soundtrack.

Twelve

Elder, tomorrow you are twelve.

A year defined by Buffy 

and violin 

and an uncanny understanding of math.

You can babysit now and sit in the front seat of the car.

Sometimes you look at me like I am no more than 

something found on the sidewalk and then you will 

turn and scrunch up to me all little again.

always little

your thick mane of hair almost to where you want it 

way down your back

and tonight I helped you paint 

your fingernails red and black

My daughter. My firstborn. 

You are turning twelve. 

All old young.

there are no words for the love 

xox mummy

Pang

The airport is a place of passage. A view to human love and goodbyes and greetings.

A large building faceless a labyrinth but full of human emotion like no other

anticipation 

longing sentiment

sorrow and joy

I was waiting for someone today. That is another story.

There was a man. middle aged. Standing alone.

And she came out.

skinny jeans and crumple boots

hair in a  pony tail

she was gorgeous and very young

And I imagined

returning from her first year of university perhaps

he saw her

she saw him 

they both lit up and his hands shot out from his sides his face just 

alight with love and excitement

and he walked quickly to her

father to daughter as she protested needfully for coffee

giving him a close and loving hug

and I felt this pang

that there was no longer daddy to greet me with delight.

and though I felt this raw feeling. I was deeply happy for their love. 

The unicorns hidden in the hills galloped free.
Manes streaming behind them in an impossible beauty.

They snuffled at the wind blowing up from the dark valley far below,
and decided in their infinite unicorn wisdom that it was not time yet.

While Down Below.
The dark one waited, searching the horizon for a glimpse of their mystical beauty.

She could hear the thunder of their hooves, she could see the dust in the air.
Most of all though. She could smell the faint scent of unicorn shit.

One day she swore, she would catch and ride one of those damned beasts again.
And where she wondered, swearing and muttering,
where the fuck are the damned rainbows cause she wants some of that action too.

There really is nothing quite so humbling as trying to find a job at the age of forty seven after twelve years of stay at home parenting.

Even the smallest of jobs in retail are asking for resumes and job experience from the past few years.
None of which I am able to give

I can do anything I want to scream just talk to me
but then I realize I am asking for someone to actually just see me standing there
when all they see is an older woman willing to work for minimum wage

My inside voice whispers gritty in my ear
it is all your fault
you should have had more marketable skills
you should have kept your hand in the pot regardless of staying at home
with the children

But one never thinks that ones life will change so drastically
that one would have to get a job. Any job will do after so many years
find a new home
all while facing the gun barrel of middle age

I had a dream many years back.
One that stayed with me
and I think of it today.

In this dream I am me as I am now
but I am older
and I go back to live in the same apartment I lived in when I was in my twenties

but it is old and shabby
and in this dream I am
alone and scared as I touch the kitchen cupboards and remember back
to younger days

I know this should not happen to me.
I know I will always have my children to love me.

But I am afraid, so afraid
of poverty
and loneliness and being ill.