A parrot of irritation sits
on my shoulder, pecks
at my head, ruffling his feathers
in my ear. He repeats
everything I say, like a child
trying to irritate the parent.
Too much to do today: the dracena
that's outgrown its pot, a mountain
of bills to pay and nothing in the house
to eat. Too many clothes need washing
and the dog needs his shots.
It just goes on and on, I say
to myself, no one around, and catch
myself saying it, a ball hit so straight
to your glove you'd have to be
blind not to catch it. And of course
I hope it does go on and on
forever, the little pain,
the little pleasure, the sun
a blood orange in the sky, the sky
parrot blue and the day
unfolding like a bird slowly
spreading its wings, though I know,
saying it, that it won't.
Today on the way home from a hair cut and grocery shopping, I chanced to think a big thought: During a lifetime we humans only rent the space we inhabit, whatever that is. We strive to gain some control over our lives by buying a home, owning land, and creating some sort of permanency – or what we call permanency. Yes, and we would like for it to go on forever, but it won’t. We only rent this life.
We don’t spend our average days in any grand manner: Today I had to come home from my hair appointment, let the dog out of her kennel, vacuum up the t paper she had torn up under the bed last night. Run in, drop the groceries on the counter and prepare pork sliders for dinner. Then I take time to write a bit – a loose moment dedicated to something other than my normal daily tasks. I will finish this now, phone my friend, take an hour to spin and start getting dinner on the table.
Exciting life. No. But yes, it is life and it just goes on and on. It feels so permanent, but it isn't. – Susan Wood did hit it out of the park on this one.