early_bird rubydee moonlight pours into the room, the full harvest moon finishing her traverse through the sky, so large on the horizon last night it looked plastered to the firmament by the sticky hands of a small child playing with glue and paper, creating wonderous masterpieces of perspective, the house, tree and sun all comically sized, smoke drawn billowing out of the chimney, enough to choke the neighborhood. they say that children drawing smoke is a sign of distress at home, like windows without shades belie secrets to be kept. he always draws his mother three times as big as anyone else in the family, her presence overwhelming the page as she does his life 241017 ... rubydee wasn’t planning that today. some kind of morning to remind me I’m still here. rolling up the road, winter hat and jacket pulled up on my ears, the cold morning wind of Appalachia piercing these thin summer pants thrown one pair atop another delivering care_packages to the care_takers Warm socks, led lanterns, first aid kits, electrolyte_powders in kiwi_strawberry, watermelon, tastes of the summer gone south, a few sleeves of oreos from the donated case, a card lauding their carrying_of_water for_the_community. then, as I climbed the hill beyond the curve I heard the birds. oh glorious birds. their songs of the first frost ringing above the shattered boles on the once-wooded lot, now defoliated and barren excepting the giant oak that stood so strong, swaying and weaving in those winds so mighty they toppled all the tree of lesser regard now madame_oak holds hoards of families: I saw and heard songs and calls of cedar waxwings, a white-throated sparrow, downy woodpeckers, crows, house finches, Carolina wrens, the always present blue jays, red-bellied woodpeckers, cardinals, goldfinches, house sparrows, song sparrows, tufted titmouse, Carolina chickadees, American robins, white-breasted nuthatch, purple finches, bluebirds and towhees. All the_usual_suspects. a belted kingfisher flew overhead and I rubbed my morning eyes, disbelieving this awesome sight, she made a racket as she clambered overhead, steering the direction of the creek to catch her breakfast next I rubbed my ears as the sweet call of the winter wren reached them and settled a soothing calm over me as things return_to_normal 241018 ... rubydee Got drunk last night. First time in probably twenty years I’ve allowed myself to completely go that way To imbibe one sweet Tequila drink after another, tossing them back, the rarity of ice clinking against my teeth Unlike the water I keep forgetting to drink The endless plastic bottles filling the trashcan Jostling for space with all the paper goods We’ve never even bought before She made me a drink named after my favorite child One displaced to deep deep Florida, Missing the colors of fall and our evening plays Of fairies, dancing through the yard with play silks in hand, climbing higher and jumping further than one could ever believe. The talents of a person of three. We laughed our way home and sam handed me a packet of forgotten cigarettes from his bar, Dangerous bedfellows mistress nicotine and too many tequilas, I smoked half of one left it on his driveway A little temple smudge of temperance burning in the night So much excess and decadence amidst the destruction Everyone drinks so hard they fall down At the end of these endless days I think this is “survivor’s guilt” 241020 ... rubydee sleep is like a fever I’m glad when it ends 241027 ... rubydee awake before the birds again can’t seem to keep my eyes closed past five the thoughts of the flood pour through my brain sounds of trees wailing cracking shattering with the winds rains harder and thicker and meaner than the neighbor’s tied up dog clambering to the top of his kennel as the floodwaters rise the quiet of the earliest morning soothes my battered_soul calms my inflamed_brain, my troubled_heart how do you carry this peace through the day? 241028 ... rubydee heading to watch the baby today need those chubby hands grabbing at my hair my hands, my clothes, reaching, searching, reminding me we_are_here we_are_alive . 241030 ... rubydee “there’s another way” she whispered her hair flung across her eyes by the winds of october, always sneaking in in the night costumes designed with warmer weather in mind covered with jackets once again she held me close and told me the things I didn’t even know I needed to hear from her from anyone sadness seeps through her words missing years of each other’s lives reconnected by fate and two young girls the world their oyster and mother pearl shines on 241031 ... rubydee must’ve been thirty blue jays making the pilgrimage to the temple_of_the_peanuts this morning a few grey squirrels bounding across the lawn complacency never their game chittering and snatching their share bright blue stallions of neighborhood watchers squark their thanks and head to the tip tops of trees to pry open their prize in the early morning mist a hermit thrush calls from below the persimmon it’s mate still in transit to warmer climes 241109 ... rubydee tomorrow morning before the sun rises they’ll stuff me in a tube and peer into my insides with magnetic_resonance imaging to map the soft bits contained within this fragile shell this holy vessel can they find my soul? 241109 what's it to you? who go blather from