“sparrow is my co-pirate”

10 12 2007

(if you need that on a t-shirt, i can hook you up)

just got back from a faretheewell dinner w/claire, who’s off to the kiwi isles for a month weds at “sparrow fart” o’clock, & had a little wine & a lot of clomping through the perfectly crunchy snow & ice both ways over to berkeley street, a nice long walk on a nice brisk night that chills cheeks and warms the limbs in motion, where cresting the hill just past the school w/the playground & the community gardens right behind it & college-lights glowing dimly in the thick cloud overhead & the warm bits of breeze sneaking out from behind the dark-traced trees felt like blacksburg, felt like 1992, felt like home from back when capes made us invisible & youth made us invincible & i thought i understood that “home” word.

it sounds morose, bereft to say that, but i’m really not; it would be nice to know what it means, or think i did, but for where and when i am i’m fine hanging my hats where the cat is & going visiting & taking sips of whatever people offer. there will be plenty of time for settling still enough to know for sure–or if there’s not, i won’t know to miss it anyway. in the meantime, there are e-mail exchanges with my grandmother at 11 at night of a random whim, & warm folks in warm houses & board-game plots through car windows & crisp sidewalks & walkies w/sophie in her stockingboots, & i’ve promised the little-syr-family of flatmates+ that i’ll make pie AND chocolate-chip scones tomorrow, in addition to editing several papers and walking to school for a staff meeting, so sometime soon i should make like my snoring feline & get some sleep.




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