A Piece of Perfect Fruit

She caresses his tiny head.
Her stubby fingers touch the soft crown.
She lifts his mouth to food.
He pulls back.
Leaving an apple sized space between her breast and his mouth.

Some were naked. Some were dancing in each other’s clothes.

She sweeps the toy soldiers and bits of apple peel from the table
and lays down her clean white cloth.
She spreads a feast.
Some were naked. Some were marching in each other’s clothes.

She is weeping now.

It has come and gone.

Leaving nothing but darkening flesh, a woody stem
and an apple shaped hole in her son’s breast.
Some are naked. Some are dying in each other’s clothes

A Truly Civilized Woman

I read those words on a tea bag tag a few months ago and they have been steeped into my consciousness. It doesn’t matter if they are true. I believe them. I am sure I believe many things that are not true. I recall those words each morning as I leave the gym and I am tempted to hurry so I can make the light at the corner of Connecticut and DeSales Street. “A truly civilized woman is never in a hurry” I remember and I slow down. I notice that it is sunnier on the north side of the Street. I notice the aroma coming from a coffee shop and I look forward to the coffee I will have when I eventually get to work.

A truly civilized kayaker is never in a hurry. This weekend I paddled against the tide to the spot where the creek becomes a marsh. A quiet spot where only kayakers, swans, heron and red-winged blackbirds are welcome. I wedged the nose of the kayak against the rocks to anchor myself and sat there for a long time soaking in the sun and the silence. When I was ready, I pushed away from the rocks and pointed the nose toward home. I pulled in the paddles, tucked the buds of my iPod into my ear. I listened to  Loreena McKennit and let the tide carry me home. I didn’t touch the paddles again. I just guided the kayak with the rudder pedals. “A truly civilized woman is never in a hurry” I remembered when the tide slackened and my forward progress slowed.

With my tea bag wisdom in mind everything I do becomes a meditation. Is that what Natalie Goldberg was trying to impart with the slow walking? Now if I can just get Darcy and Arlo to buy into my tea bag wisdom. “Repeat after me, a truly civilized dog is never in a hurry.”