You are a poet,” the poet told me.
“I think of myself as a reporter,” I told the poets luncheon table. “I go at my poems from a recording perspective.” Staying in the now is certainly me. So anything I write is usually from a perspective of immediacy. Today I am pushing myself into my tomorrows. Not that I want to mind you, but I have a week to heal before golf overwhelms me into rugby then baseball.
Last year, parts of me hurt so badly that at times all I could do was come home, sleep, write here, and go back to work. There was no me for writing class. There was no me for the Poets corner. I saved all my me’s for work. Between homestands, I would recover. Three days usually is what it took to become human again, and by then there was just enough time to go grocery shopping and get the house together before vanishing again. G didn’t complain, but he got very short changed, and my hours tired him out. I don’t want to do that to him again this year.
Today after a wonderful winter of friends, it was time to say au revoir and a good bye or two. First the library…in limbo now with the old librarian promoted to another library. Goodbye, goodbye…..I’ll miss being there, and I will miss being a part of the community down the hill. I fit well with the jobs that the old librarian/branch manager gave me, but always felt awkward with the clerk. Off somehow on the wrong foot. I so enjoyed the assistant manager who is really an artist, art gallery owner, chef, and book enthusiast. I liked pushing books here or there. Moving old out and new in. I even enjoyed shelving CD’s, seeing so many films I missed, and seeing so many films I had already seen sitting on the shelves. My mind felt better for the exercise. My body felt better for the movements. My soul was glad to give back. A balance.
Yesterday I told the writing teacher au-revoir. I like being there too. I love the people. I dearly admire the heck outta their minds and what they can do pushing words here or there. Brilliance indeed. Old doesn’t mean stagnation, a lack of creativity, or silence. Not with this crowd, any way. Here too, I belong. Here too I vanish until the end of baseball every year simply because I am too tired to drag myself out of bed and away from precious sleep.
Today I semi au-revoired the Old Grey Poet’s society…….who really aren’t, you know. Sometimes this summer I will be able to visit. Always I will be writing and thinking of them.
Now I am in that limbo state of waiting. Adagio…slowly moving. No schedule in the computer for golf yet. No scheduling for baseball training yet. No legs, hips, and orts ready to do the grand pas into my waiting world.