Saint-Avold, France

Saint-Avold, France. The last Sunday in April in France is the "The national day of the deportation." It honors the memory of those sent forcibly from France to Nazi concentration, work or extermination camps.

The town was out in force, and there were events and marches and everyone was enjoying the great weather!

On a more somber note...the American Cemetery at Saint-Avold is silent and beautiful in the sunshine. Only the dull flapping of the flags can be heard.

Cats in the Sun

I walked down to our small village yesterday evening , and although the sun was bright, my spirits were low.
We have lots of stray cats around the local farms, but I think they are not really strays, as they seem well fed though skittish. As I wandered about, I spotted a young black cat rolling in the grass and dirt. He was wallowing in the dust, and seemed very content... I took a knee and made myself smaller. Then I tried to beckon him to me with quiet words. But he was content in his own life and kept rolling to and fro. His large sweet eyes gazing at me.

I felt quite awful, and large tears fell from my eyes. I was wearing sunglasses and was alone, so was not embarrassed. Anyway, I didn't care...I think I wept for so so many things. Selfish things mainly.

The cat perked up, and wandered off into a driveway. His coat gleamed and shone in the bright sun. Only absolute black could look so bright...

I moved on too. Nothing to do but keep walking on.

Poem for Today

Selfish...

My friend grieves,
I do too.

Angry at her reasons for loss,
Frustrated and confused,
Like mashed up newspapers,
Wet with sour rain,
Impossible to untangle.

I hate the thing that makes her sad,
Her impending loss...
It draws her from me,
Making me crushed and hollow,
Feeling like a thrown away thermos.

And then: the worst feeling...is that I hate to feel that way,
I should be a better comfort...

I grieve with her,
for the same, and other reasons.

April 2010

Poem for Today

Everything

Be my everything,
My lover,
My closest friend,
My dearest sibling.

Be someone for me to love,
Someone I won't be afraid of calling,
Someone who won't hurt me.
Someone whose arms fold into mine.

I can beg you,
Pay you,
Worship you,
Support you...

Even if you can't love me enough,
Claim me,
Make me your toy,
Just need me sometimes.


April 2010

Poem for Today

Workingman’s Daughter

Your parent’s efforts are in your eyes,

Sculpted into your professional hands,

Written into the way you smile gently.

Their love and care made you,

I feel you bringing that to me.

What sort of love did they share?

How did they stay as one?

I see their joy,

Lines of knowledge carved in their faces,

Slowly wondering if I can make that life,

Share that with you.

Your have their honesty,

Their deep secrets,

Their simple goodness…

But our times are different,

We struggle within ourselves,

Making love difficult…

One time, we traveled together to a cemetery,

I saw you touch the gravestone of a dead man,

An unknown Soldier in that place,

You were sad, but wanted to share your heart.

Your parents made you beautiful.

What We All Want...

Today is sunny.

But I woke up with the most empty and alone feeling...It was not a nothingness or emptiness, because I don't think that hurts as much. I could not get up, did not want to face anything, yet felt miserable looking out at the empty branches against the white sky.

Quite awful. Better now, but perhaps it was traveling preparations...

Seems we all want to love and be loved; to give consolation and receive it. But the people who need and want to give are disconnected.... Wandering in some wild forest which is filled with thorns and dense vines. How can we not all connect...?

I saw a girl's hand yesterday. She was holding a napkin at a restaurant I was in. Her hand had some faint scrapes on it. It was not adorned with painted nails, rings or overwrought delicacy... But it was lovely.

I wished she could have touched my face.