“Delay” sounds like really unfortunate sex when you think about it for too long. Worse than “mislay” which only sounds like something has gone amiss due to inexperience or too many candles on the nightstand. Still, I’d rather think of it that way than how it applies to this blog post which is more in the way of tardy than anything approaching sex no matter how fumbling.
I’m going to blame work because it doesn’t complain when I blame it for things, but I have to admit a single card draw that told me to look to the earth had me wanting time outside. Then I found out that woman I barely know but who gave me the honor of using her poem passed away. I went outside and took food with me then. A treat for the burrowers.
I dropped the food in a high paw traffic area and took my time with the couple of miles back to the car. I looked at the earth but it was covered in snow. So I looked to the horizon and I said her name into it. I said her name in all directions. Then I looked to the snow again and it glinted sunlight here and there as if someone had scattered diamond dust onto a field of white. That’s my kind of holy.
I got home and while delayering I noticed the dust on the lamp stand over my bed. I think I still had an eye out for paw prints and that’s what made me notice. Only one cat went there. Other than a shredded side of a chair, those prints are the last sign of him in the house. Maybe the world.
Sometimes I don’t want the snow to melt. Sometimes I don’t want the sun to go down. Sometimes I want everything to stay. Even the dusts.