Garland

Sweet winter oranges
sliced, dried, on a day that filled
the apartment
with the scent of burning
sugar now inviting the light like
little rings of cathedral
glass, their color sings
against blue skies
or jewel-like, stokes
my spirit
for the grey ones

"I never pray, but since last week it is all I do."

"I never pray, but since last week it is all I do. I pray for peace. I pray for de-escalation. I pray for the ordinary Ukrainians - some of whom I know and love - who are displaced, waiting in bomb shelters, etc. I pray for the people experiencing racism at the border. And I pray for the ordinary Russians whose economy and futures are also imploding, who didn't ask for this suicide mission in their names. And I pray for all of us."

- Maria Sonevytsky

I am so cognizant in recent days of my luck. A warm bed. A safe home. So much of who and what I love gathered here and nearby. So cognizant that life could be otherwise. Unsettled. Shaken by what news and images make it here of the faces and experiences of those ordinary Ukrainians right now.

The days grow more open

The sky seems lighter, the light stays longer. It's not spring yet, but as often is the case in the Bay Area, it feels like it might as well be.

Second pandemic Valentine's Day

And sixth Valentine's Day together
means:
homemade dinner and cake
squabbles over kitchen space
apologies
defending ourselves from
our bloodthirsty
feline daughter
as we watch a movie we've
seen three times already together
that my lover can sing along to in
its entirety
afterwards
placing a joint shampoo order
(domestic bliss)
and a cat litter order
"I think we do pretty well
considering the circumstances"

Empty mystery lot

A curiosity on a busy street, shielded by hedges. Oakland, December 2020.

A circle song for winter nights

I had a notably upsetting experience yesterday. Today I'm feeling a lot better, though still a bit shaken and troubled. I took a hot shower just now and spent most of it singing circle songs to myself, which made me feel a bit like a cat purring to help her own broken bone heal.

The genre - women's circle songs - is one I just became aware of a few years ago when I was able to participate in a singing circle for the first time. They are simple songs or chants, designed for women to teach one another and sing at length together at gatherings, usually with feminist or nature or spiritual themes. Or all of the above. One piece of the precious heritage of the women's movement.

So here's one for you to enjoy too, "Winter Solstice Round" sung by the choir Libana. On this past winter solstice I buried myself in a veritable snowdrift of blankets when bedtime came, and hummed myself to sleep with this one.

Deep down in the belly of the night
Dream deep winter dreams
And lie safe in your grandmother's arms
Still as a seed, still as a seed