Dear Diary . . . day by day

Monday, January 15th, 2001 - An anniversary of sorts

In honor of what would've been a three year anniversary with David today, I reprint this poem, which was written after the Weed and Feed party at the house, 'lo so many years ago now. Oddly enough, this was well before the summer when David and I had our own garden together - it at times felt like trying to share custody of a child, after we broke up, but we both kept at it. I'm very pleased that I have a good friend in David these days, not in the least because of all the work he does in the garden. With good friends come bountiful harvests.
Sorry, but I had to warm you up with some syrupy sap, my friends; this poem is much more lovey-dovey than I've been recently.

Scent of Spring Sleep
I woke up at 7am, rolled
over to put my arm around
you, and was somewhat surprised
in my sleepy state that you
weren't there. Big pillows don't
compare to the soft sensation of sleeping
next to you, drowsy in the warmth
of your body, insulating against
the chill of my corner room. I buried
my face in the spot where you sleep,
breathing deeply, hoping to pick up a trace
of your scent.
I sigh deeply of the thought of you dirty
and sweaty, standing in dirt you and I turned
ourselves, standing in a spring garden,
as yet unplanted. I trembled as I licked
your neck and tasted the salty sweat
and inhaled the aroma of hard work. You're too
clean othertimes, and the smell of you
intoxicated me; I understood the budding world
around us, the new growth, the buzzing
insects, and the pollen,
pollen everywhere. I expected more than the
blackberry brambles in that garden,
I looked for small bunnies, baby rats that are called
kittens, chicks, eggs. We didn't even have seeds,
only clippers and gloves to keep us safe,
and we spent the day heady
with hard work under the
new scent of spring.

Heather Shaw
12:49pm
April 13, 1998

Exercise log:
Yoga class Sunday afternoon.
Writing log:
I'm far too superstitious to write about writing here right now; sorry.
I'm currently reading:
Starlight 2 anthology edited by Patrick Nielsen Hayden
Still Flipping Through:
Dancing with Cats by Burton Silver and Heather Busch
The Writer - Janurary 2001 (magazine)
Still reading, off and on:
Woman: An Intimate Geography by Natalie Angier

My new PO Box is:
Heather Shaw
P.O. Box 13222
Berkeley, CA 94712-4222

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