how comfortable it will be to touch
the earth instead of the nothingness of the air and the endless
freshets of wind? And don't you think the trees, especially those with mossy hollows, are beginning to look for the birds that will come...
six, a dozen... to sleep inside their bodies?
And don't you hear the goldenrod whispering goodbye,
the everlasting being crowned with the first tuffets of snow?
The pond stiffens and the white field over which
the fox runs so quickly brings out
it's long blue shadows. The wind wags
its many tails. And in the evening
the piled firewood shifts a little
longing to be on its way."
~Mary Oliver
Song For Autumn
Covid-19 Update
Every single prediction came true, just as I believed it would from the beginning. And I believe predictive models will too. That means it will be perhaps another 200,000 dead by March 1st, and if that does happen, I am not sure if I will be here to see another autumn. And worse, will I lose my darling? I love him. Very much. I'm not going there. It's unimaginable. All I know is, things in the world better change! I hate it, but beginning tomorrow new restrictive measures will be implemented in California, and while I hate that it's necessary at this point, I applaud the move by the governor. Governor Newsom is even considering imposing curfews. Not sure how that will work, but I will be taking my last holiday grocery trip this week, and will be back home, well before dark. Holidays. The word almost sounds obscene. I better do plenty of photographs while I shop, because who knows when I will be able to venture into another store. What is so fucking hard about wearing a mask? How can there not be laws preventing what Donald Trump has done? And is doing? And I haven't even mentioned he sought what his options were for launching a war with Iran! Oops. I just did! Will he plunge the United States into war, just to fuck with Joe Biden? Nah... that doesn't sound like him at all! I wonder if he realizes that once he leaves office, he no longer has access to the bunker?
On the other hand, isn't Arlo adorable? If you're wondering, I turn to poetry and comforting stuff when I am sad and frightened. I still have a small stuffed cat I bought at the San Jose Manetta Airport, when Alan and I flew back east in 1992. Lordy I hate flying in the big planes. So, sometimes I cling to a stuffed animal. Who doesn't? Is there a poem or stuffed bear big enough to handle what's coming? I don't know, but I know Arlo helps me. How do you not smile, when you see that silly face, and his sweater, which doesn't quite fit?
~Carly
November 17th 2020
Stockton, California
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