things i found in my apartment's free pile

gah! remember these?

(“Keep me fully glad...”)

 by Rabindranath Tagore

                                                      II

         Keep me fully glad with nothing. Only take my hand in your hand.
         In the gloom of the deepening night take up my heart and play with it as you list. Bind me close to you with nothing.
         I will spread myself out at your feet and lie still. Under this clouded sky I will meet silence with silence. I will become one with the night clasping the earth in my breast.
         Make my life glad with nothing.
         The rains sweep the sky from end to end. Jasmines in the wet untamable wind revel in their own perfume. The cloud-hidden stars thrill in secret. Let me fill to the full my heart with nothing but my own depth of joy.

poem for the end of winter

late March and the river is high.

Things happened that I could not

control. On my 24^th birthday  

my grandfather fell over and his

heart stopped beating. Meanwhile

the river rose and flooded the valley, 

bringing swans and black American 

mallards, a great blue heron 

balanced on one leg.

They say the moon controls the tides

but God controls the river. I do not

know God, but sometimes I want

more than anything to be able to pray.

Embarrassed by mortality, I thought

more and more of where I am going,

who I will be.

In summer we floated the river. 

All day I watched waxwings and

swallows and passed slowly. Perhaps 

what I really want is to let the river 

of my life rise and fall. I can be whatever 

the season wants of me, whether 

quiet swan or furtive swallow.

Things happen that I cannot control. 

Late March, the river is high.

the sounds of our apartment

bus screech and bus go of wheels on pavement. engine that won't start but does. drunk man shouting above whistle of wind. wind, often, rustling windows, cabinets, floors. crackle and snap of radiators in morning. neighbor's faucet sound, and water through pipes. someone coughing. someone laughing. tea kettle screeching. someone singing softly in the distance, like so many thoughts of late. and you, in the other room, your quiet sleep breathing.

i am still here

 

waiting for spring, owning math tests, getting over a cough, signing up for half marathons, turning 24, thinking of my grandfather, worrying about the future, letting dust balls collect in the corners, fretting about dust balls in the corners, drinking coffee and taking my vitamins.