Shadow Shot Sunday

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Happiness Is...

There are many prompts that we, as bloggers can use to stimulate us into action.  There's the Poetry Bus, Shadow Shot Sunday, Happiness Is....and many others if you really go searching. This is my Happiness Is...photo essay. I'm not entering it in the competition because I have more than three photos.

Happiness is being able to hang from a tree to stretch out after a bike ride and not caring if your underpants show...

Happiness is buying lemonade at the end of a hot bike ride from cool dudes who are raising money for the poor people. 

Happiness is finding an art gallery in the back yard of someone living on a country road.

Happiness is coming home just in time to see your daughter get the phone call informing her she got a job after being unemployed for a year and a half.

Happiness is being able to go the country because your big sister drove 2 hours to come take care of your mother for 2 days.

Shadow Shot Sunday

©Kathryn Feigal 2010 All Rights Reserved

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Body Scan

Today I've gone missing.

I'm hiding in my body,

visiting all the hankerings

I never resisted.

A shrewd and small alien,

I furrow along wiry edges

where edible music

escapes like blood. 

I drain sacs of dark secrets,

splay upon the surface

of sentient cells,

pressing for answers.

I lodge in peevish crevices,

consort with membranes

too permeable 

to hold lies.

I surface to a d minor scale of skin

so tenderized by touch,

it no longer

covers dense, irregular issues.

I wrench through follicles

of foregone conclusions,

hear tiny trickles 

of truth broadcast 

on narrow bands

of breath.

I come clean about being

caught dead

in desires etched so deep

they invert.

Pain accompanies me,

points out the bone-on-bone grindage 

 

of missteps,  

shows me deposits of fear

where I've been disparaged

into bits.

Arriving at the place

where fantasies dislodge,

I spring open like laughter,

and settle

into myself.


Kathryn Feigal, 2010

© 2010 by Kathryn Feigal. All rights reserved. 


Unfathomable mind! now beacon, now sea.
Samuel Beckett

What Constitutes "BedTime"?

Photo challenge from Brenda's blog.

Mom and Lola are ready.

The necessary items await me.

The sky darkens.

Kissing Joy

He who binds to himself a joy doth the winged life destroy. 

But he who kisses the joy as it flies
lives in Eternity's sunrise.
William Blake 

In the time since I last posted, a lot has happened. 

There have been difficult times, hard work, 

and sadness mixed with joy. 

I attended the funeral of a wonderful cousin-in-law 

in a beautiful country setting -

                                      gathered with family on Memorial Day

in remembrance of a loving, 
yet complex father/grandfather - 

- moved my mother in with me

and fussed over all the preparations and adjustments,

including the replacement of my clawfoot tub

with a walk-in shower - 

- watched with amazement at how much my daughter

threw herself into helping me - 

She cooked up a weeks-worth of meals for me to serve 

and painted the bathroom yellow.

My sister came from out of town to help with the move. This is the ultimate older sister, who was a second mother to me growing up. I remember when she sat me in front of my mother's dressing table, fussed with my hair and as we both looked at our reflections in the mirror said, "You are really going to be something special when you grow up. I can just tell."

I've watched my daughter's dog 
tenderly cuddle with Mother. 

For some reason, Lola lies on top of Mom's feet 
when she is at the table. 

I think animals have a special ability 
to sense when someone needs comforting.

My life has changed, but I am at peace.

(the sky last night)