The Open Book Test: May (4 years ago), 2011

When: May (4 years ago), 2011
Where: Manheim, Pennsylvania
What: My husband and I embarked on a cross-country road trip, six months after coming to the USA from Costa Rica.  We left my parents’ home in Pennsylvania and aimed the car toward my sister’s home in Washington State. First stop:  other sister in Ohio.
Age:  40

Yesterday we stuffed everything possible into Claudia the Car and drove away. We were so happy, actually. It was a pretty day, Camomilo and Victor (the cats we brought from Costa Rica but gave up for adoption) aren’t lonely, and mom and dad seemed happy for us.

Now I’m sitting in Y’s chilly back yard and P is sleeping in her chilly house. It’s just as cold inside as it is outside.  Y took us to dinner last night. Today she is running a 13 mile race and then in the afternoon she has to leave for Denver. We had to take Luis the cat to the vet this morning because his eye is infected.

P drove all the way here yesterday. I took pictures, looked at license plates, looked at the map, made notes and neither of us were one bit sleepy. I was thinking about how “the road trip” is something that most all Americans do at some point in their lives. But ours is different from the average “road trip” because we’re also on a quest. We’re looking for a home; we don’t have one to go back to. The six months in PA were good for many things, one of which is that P now also totally gets where I come from—loves it dearly and is driven to desperation by it, just like me. One more thing we’re on the same page about. I’ve lived with his kids, he’s lived with my parents. Ha ha.

I think today is going to be cold and gray and then tomorrow we’ll go to Goshen. I’m having so much fun. I love journeys.

Where I come from, this is what the gateway to the rest of the world looks like.

Where I come from, this is what the gateway to the rest of the world looks like.

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Ice Age

if I were a planet, this
would be my ice age
my interminable winter of
a thousand years
who would believe the
flowers that bloomed here?
who would believe the bees?
the dinosaurs are all dead and
glaciers creep downward toward
my belly
everything has starved for lack of
fruit except the
woolly mammoths hunkered in ice
caves huffing hot breath

Glass Windows

trapped inside
i stare through glass windows
at the sky
separated
from the sun and rain

i would give my life
to be a leaf
making sugar from sunshine
even only for a season

i would be a bee, my
face buried in flowers and
let winter kill me
once and for all
when it comes,
dissolve my little wings
in its rain that
taps chilly fingers against
glass windows

strange dark

get the hell out
of my dreams
can’t you see my husband
lying here
slightly snoring
you have your
own wife
who adores you
young and
sweet

get out of here
what’s wrong with you

are you
sorry now
about what you
did then

you are
looking for me
in this strange cold dark
trying to speak and
take my hand

(Note:  The original poem starts out with a stronger word than “hell” but I can’t quite bring myself to post it that way.  So you can read it whichever way you like it best.)