The Snow Leopard Mother
By Jennifer K. Sweeney
The snow leopard mother runs straight
down the mountain.
Elk cliff. Blizzard.
into the night.
Her silence and wild
falling is a compass
of hunger and memory. Breath
prints on the carried-away body.
This is how it goes so far away
from our ripening grapes and lime,
coyote eyes rimming the canyon.
we paddle out in our ice boat
headed toward no future at last.
O tired song of what we thought,
stillness crouches like a prow.
We break the ice gently forward.
If I want to cling to anything
then this quiet of being the last
to know about our lives.
Saturday was gorgeous and, after a slightly drizzly morning, very warm! We went to the Montomgery Potters' spring pottery sale at Colesville Presbyterian Church, then we went to Brookside Gardens, which was bursting with azaleas and irises as well as lots of animals -- we saw half a dozen snakes and as many snapping turtles, a family of goslings, spotted turtles, red-eared sliders, barn swallows, frogs, ducks, fish, tadpoles, and many other birds! Then we drove to Garrett Park, a town designated an arboretum where the trees and flowers in pretty much every yard are gorgeous (and we saw a bunny, too)!
We stopped to do a little shopping, had spaghetti for dinner, and watched Outlander, which dragged ridiculously following Claire's pirate Renfaire performances which somehow were supposed to help Jamie find her -- maybe this made sense in the book, but it came across as absurd on TV -- then the Graham Norton with Rebel Wilson and Mumford & Sons. Hey, I need a favor: Does anyone happen to have a copy of Friday's USA Today? They printed a photo of mine (of the USS Constellation and Michael Rosman of the MDRF) and I would love a print copy! Thank you! Happy Mother's Day!