By Linda Gregg
Eight deer on the slope
in the summer morning mist.
The night sky blue.
Me like a mare let out to pasture.
The Tao does not console me.
I was given the Way
in the milk of childhood.
Breathing it waking and sleeping.
But now there is no amazing smell
of sperm on my thighs,
no spreading it on my stomach
to show pleasure.
I will never give up longing.
I will let my hair stay long.
The rain proclaims these trees,
the trees tell of the sun.
Let birds, let birds.
Let leaf be passion.
Let jaw, let teeth, let tongue be
between us. Let joy.
Let entering. Let rage and calm join.
Let quail come.
Let winter impress you. Let spring.
Allow the ocean to wake in you.
Let the mare in the field
in the summer morning mist
make you whinny. Make you come
to the fence and whinny. Let birds.
We have been in Hanover all day for Paul's father's birthday (and had horrible traffic coming home because part of Route 15 was closed, meaning we had to go through downtown Gettysburg) so this will be short. It was a lovely Saturday: beautiful mild sunny weather, fabulous pepperjack tomato soup and half a black bean burger wrap for lunch at Isaac's Deli, walk by the lake at Codorus State Park where we saw waterfowl and played with a friendly dog, visit to Hanover Shoe Farms to see mares and their day-old foals, veggie chili and cheese for dinner made by Paul's mother at her house where we also saw a groundhog! I have a super-busy day tomorrow (Longwood Gardens, Oscars, dementordelta) so here are a few quick pics:
A turkey vulture at Codorus State Park, where a dam created the enormous lake that is now home to a great many animals.
This is Casey, whom we met with his owner at the park. Younger son seems to be a magnet for dogs, and got followed and played with for quite a while.
One of the newborn foals at Hanover Shoe Farms nurses in the barn with other mothers and babies.