christmas tree altered photograph

in 1966, every child in grade one received a tiny seedling in june. we called it our 'grade one tree'. dad planted both my sister's and mine. this is mine now, nearly forty years later. leslie's, on the other hand, is missing. i think my dad ran over it with the lawn mower. i tell her it is a concrete symbol of my greatness. my parents have always been like this tree. 

consistent. 

rooted. 

sheltering. 

a few summers ago, a large fir tree in our back yard was growing so large it began to lean against the garage roof. my mom sawed a chunk out of the roof to accomodate the tree, rather than to cut it down. that is the metaphor of their greatness....

OH MY GOD I'M...MIDDLE AGED

slept in. pascale is at her dad's. wonder how i got middle aged when i still feel like i am twenty one? o.k., i am much wiser, thank god, calmer, (occasionally) but MAAANNNN that went fast. spent hours on the phone last night with the best friends, annie baking a cake for me that followed indian food and sar and i, as always having our nightly hour conversation that spanned topics from good bras to the male psyche to this. how to blog. our daughters. the ex's. cool words.

what do i want for my birthday this year? besides the WAY cool motorcycle boots i bought yesterday at the Brown's sale??

-sex in my forties would be good.

-the news that my kidney matches my dad's and i can finally give him one. side benefit, i'd have enough recovery time to stop the treadmill of teaching full time and mothering full time. i could write. cut and paste. wahoo.

-botox for free. (what??!!) half my student's parents are botox suppliers. how about instead of the box of purdies at the end of the year, some botox and restylane gift certificates? how to make your teacher happy.

-to figure out how to create website for my art. i just don't get it.

-to avoid any restaurants such as the keg where those cheery waiters sing some silly song over my bonfire of a cake to a smattering of applause. shudder.

this is turning into a new year's resolution thing. as always. the upside of having a birthday on december 30. good re-evaluation time. take stock. it's all good.

the uneven land

in the tenth century a moorish man
against the red hills of marrakesh
enters the garden
like a moon
bends down and takes her hand
kisses it slowly
never moving his eyes from hers
here on the ocean
in the fall
the shadows stretch long down the sidewalks
gold light
blur of umber and sienna your
chalk blue eyes
making a seafarer of me
in my boat of solitude
i rest my oars
and will know 
when you lift yourself from sitting
and take my hand to your mouth.