First Notes

You strum your guitar
and croon softly in the night--
love lights on G clef.

Tagged for a Meme by Adrienne

Hello all--

My good friend Adrienne tagged me for a meme, which, if you did not know is "a cultural unit (an idea or value or pattern of behavior) that is passed from one person to another by non-genetic means (as by imitation); "memes are the cultural counterpart of genes" (dictionary.com).

Adrienne's friend tagged her to post a meme on her blog listing eight random things about herself. She did so, then tagged me to do the same (that's the passing on by imitation part of a meme).

So, there you have it - now for the rules:

1: Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
2: People who are tagged, write a blog post about their own eight random things, and post these rules.
3: At the end of your post you need to tag eight people and include their names.
4: Don't forget to leave them a comment and tell them they're tagged, and to read your blog.

Here are my eight random things:

1. I love heart-shaped stones, sea-glass of all colors, sand dollars, and seashells.
2. My favorite skirt is a kicky little denim one with two pleats in front.
3. My favorite color is blue.
4. I write poetry. (guess you know that if you've ever looked at this blog...)
5. I have stickers that are anti-war, anti-discrimination, and pro-Belfast Co-op on Bluebelle, my cobalt blue Jetta.
6. I'm afraid of power saws.
7. I've changed an air filter and spark plug in a lawnmower.
8. I live in a 106 year-old house on the coast of Maine.


I haven't got 8 people to tag, but I'll tag: Jamaal,(am I spelling your name right Excalibur?) Allison, & Elizabeth.

On Naming

To close friends,
I have called you
Soulmate--
Love of my life.
I have whispered,
This could be the one--
a forever-after love--
the partner I've never had.

To you, I speak of sliding into love.
I ache when you leave, wistfully turn
to your empty pillow, and ease
the spike of loss by inhaling your scent
amidst the sunshine of sheets hung
with yesterday's laundry.

Morning after morning, I sit with you,
expecting these moments to go on forever.
I watch you sip your coffee, knowing
that you will place spoonfuls of bananas,
almonds, dried cranberries on your cereal.

I've felt a spur of excitement at the sight
of your car in my driveway, a pang of loss
at the empty space created when you leave.
On those mornings when you're not with me,
I am stymied by the grapefruit's other half.

Still, I will not name this burgeoning feeling,
will not claim this side-by-side living
is a living together, will not imagine
you with no other address
but the one I call home.

In every way save for naming
I have called you my own,
but a part of me has a breath
that catches slightly, a heart
that slips in my chest, eyes
that dart away, lips
that purse at the question:
Is this the one?