OSAGE BLACK

Just outside the wall at Fort Harrod stands what is arguably the oldest living osage orange (hedge apple) tree in the country.  It's trunk, split in two, keeps this beautiful, complicated thing out of the record books.  The possibility that this may be two separate, distinctly unrelated things, with only their incidental physical closeness as a connection, doesn't change my perception: That of a single thing interrupted.  Set apart by weight, a fleetin' difference of direction not even recognized.

I captured this image a couple years ago- late in the day, late in the year-  while visitin’ with a long-ago lover and grandchildren. 

I cropped it square ‘cause this worked best for me.  

I put it in a box.

As the kids played and climbed, squealin’ and fussin’, their Mimi shoutin' words of caution as I “spotted”, I looked up, the bare branches silhouetted against the gray sky.  I drew in the cool air.  Lonely.

I was overwhelmed.  I realized my heart was broken and there was no repair.

I think about that day often.  This image, the split of the trunk, the continuin' branches, everything movin' further and further away.  It all seems to mirror so many of the feelings of that day, and the things I feel when I remember...

That thing: "It's complicated"...?  That falls so far short of what this has me recall. 

Better the image.  

Clearer the sadness, my failure.  My mistakes that now stand irreparable.  

A crime with many victims, for which the blame is ultimately mine to bear.

Please forgive me.

Fish~

BREATH

Summer

I stayed with my friend

No longer kids, far from grown

You were her sidekick

Horses and motorbikes

"She can ride with you"

You pressed against me

Your slender arms around my waist

Your head turned, pressed against my shoulders

I held my breath

A high school crowd

My friend leaned close, whispered:

"She likes you, she told me"

"No-" I said

Flattered and embarrassed 

"Yes!"

I looked at you across the room

I watched you smile, laugh

Something happened

I held my breath

"Can I come over?"

"Yes"

We lay in the floor

Ate popcorn and watched tv

Your folks on the couch

I wanted to be closer

"Perhaps a movie, a ballgame?"

"Perhaps"

Time all but stopped

I held my breath

Another summer

Your father drove

Your mother rattled

We sat in the back seat

Pressed close together

Our shoulders, our hips, our thighs touching

Fingers laced so tight

Our gaze only for one another

The warm air crossed through the windows

I held my breath

Time passed, so much happened

Here we sat together

You held my hand across the table

But for only a moment

You told me how things were

I closed my eyes tight, head down

My mind began to burn

Then you left me

I drew in deeply from the room

The air that had just moved past you

Then, I held my breath