What came from the stars
Anything is possible
Oink-a-doodle-moo

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Our library network is having a book spine poetry contest and one of the categories is haiku. I love a poetry challenge so I thought I’d try. It’s harder than it seems!

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Poetry

A few weeks ago I was driving around town with my husband. We decided to go to the movie theater to see what was playing and then he wanted to show me this area behind the movie theater where they starting a housing development. We parked the car for a moment up on a hill to look at the empty lots where new houses would be in the future. “Does that guy have a machine gun?!?” said my husband. I was seeing the same thing and indeed, had the same thought. There was a young adult male standing at the back of his SUV pointing what looked to be a machine gun at something, as if he were about to do target practice with it. Next to him watching and laughing was a younger looking male (I swear he had to be a pre-teen) holding what looked to be a shotgun. I could see the face of the younger kid with the shotgun more clearly because he was facing us (they were both at a distance though – thank god) and he looked like he was laughing in a fun way.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Was I really seeing what I was seeing? Was I really seeing two young adults playing with a machine gun in such an nonchalant way, right next to a busy shopping area? As we both stared in disbelief the guy with the machine gun turned his head and looked at us. I felt fear go through my veins and I wanted to be out of there right now. We drove away a few moments later. We talked about maybe calling the police, and maybe we should have, but I don’t think what they were doing was even illegal.

My mind keeps flashing on this weird, terrifying moment. I still can’t believe it was real.

Life

My hands are trembling as I type this. I was out for my lunchtime walk and almost was hit by a car. I was crossing the street and the driver was turning left and wasn’t paying attention because he didn’t make any attempt to stop until I screamed and ran out of the way.

I made it to the corner and he stopped and I turned to him with a look of horror and yelled, “You almost hit me!! I was crossing the street! Jesus Fucking Christ!!” and he looked mortified but blew me off by waving his hands in a kind of “I’m Sorry gesture” and he drove away.

I kept on walking, very shaken, and then I had to stop on the sidewalk and cry because I don’t know what else to do with these feelings that bubble up to the surface when I am in this situation.

I have been hit by a car in the past and so am very sensitive about this and I am very unforgiving when I find myself in this situation. The last time this happened I decided the person needed to understand my feelings and I made it very clear to them, by yelling hysterically, that they could have killed me. Afterward I felt bad about doing that, along with feeling like an idiot for completely losing my cool.

This time I just walked away and cried. I am not sure I feel any better right now.

Rage and anger boil up to the surface regardless.

How can people be so completely oblivious?

How dare they?!?

I don’t know what to do with this anger that goes hand in hand with the terrifying fear I am also feeling.

 

Life

I had the most wonderful interaction this morning on my run. It was both a boost to my ego and my spirit all at once. I stopped for a few seconds to say “hi” to a basset hound that was waddling up to me and it’s owner, an older gentleman I have nodded at when we pass each  other, wanted to tell me something. He said, “I have to tell you, you are really looking great. I’ve watched you running by me for the past year and I’ve noticed that you are really shaping up. Good job!.” I was delighted that this stranger would take a moment to give me kudos! It really brightened my morning.

It also reminded me of a train of thought I often have while running.

For years I have been an early morning runner and, no matter where I’ve lived, I always run into the same people in the mornings when I run. We usually nod and smile and say “good morning” as we pass each other and that’s it.  I often wonder about these little interactions – these little tiny bonds that form with these strangers that share the same time and space with me three times a week. It’s hard to intellectualize because it seems like it happens on a level that is more intuitive. But, indeed, a kind of bond is being formed with these people.

It was nice to be reminded of this today, and to be encouraged by a so-called stranger.

Thoughts and Opinions

Last night I dreamt of a brass door.
It keeps playing on the edge of my memory.
Teasing me
Asking me to open it.
But when I look at it it goes away.
All I can do is stare at it
In my mind.
I am powerless.
The orange robe of the
Tibetan monk sits firmly
In my mind.
Standing there in the ancient field
Naked except for the robe.
He stands there by himself
awake.

Poetry