When darkness
Creeps o'er the land,
When the night
Robes the world in black.
That is when I
Come out to play.

Sliding through
The shadows black,
Padding through
A moonlit space,
Down a bank
To the river's edge.

Up in a tree,
I watch the shadows,
Waiting...
Watching...
Just a darkness,
Crouched on a limb.

I hear a grunt.
A boar shuffles out
To drink. I drop,
And it is over.

Grey mists,
Swirling round,
Hiding horrors,
Disguising fears.

Bright lights,
Gay colors,
Highlighting joys
And showing wonders.

Many shades of
Washed-out blue,
Dark and chilling,
Unveiling a thousand
Regrets.

Chapter 5 Adonay
Peter surprised me the next morning. He was standing right at our gate when I stepped out for my usual round. My mother frowned as she watched us go, so he did not reach for the milk bails until we were well out of her sight. I stopped his hand. “Wait, today is my turn.”
He paused, confused, until it dawned on him. “Oh…”
“Raise your right hand.” He obeyed. “Did you prepare at all?” I asked in a teasing tone.
“Well, no…”
“Good, repeat after me. I Peter promise to tell you everything I know about Adonay.” I made it short and sweet.

Good Friday: a time of remembrance; sacred; set apart to ponder the weight of the cross. As my dad and I stood in the back row of the service, I remembered.

“Man of sorrows, Lamb of God,
Oh, for sinners slain!
The sin of man and wrath of God
Has been on Jesus laid.”

The first poem is based on a story set in upstate New York during the Civil War. I found it the 1964 book 'A Vanished World' by Anne Gertrude Sneller who was Elvie's niece and Sarah's daughter. The second poem is set in Oregon during, I suppose, the 1840s. I found it in a reference book at Multnomah County's Central Library many years ago. The themes of the poems are similar so I thought I'd share them together.

Pink Calico

Peter stopped talking, and I thought it was because he was taking in a breath. However, he did not continue his story. Impatient to hear the rest, I asked, "You escaped?" Obviously they had.
"We escaped." He muttered. "We left the Book of Adonay...broke my bow while we were running as well. There," Peter sighed as if he was just relieved of a heavy burden. "Now you know."

Everything is
Sexualized
Nothing
Intellectualized
Time
spent usefully
is
Marginal at best
Our kids are
Patronized
Pressured
But rest assured
Obsessions are healthy
In our eyes
Normal
Incrementally brainwashed by
What's cool
We sizzle, and
Burn
Our stomachs
Churn
Over a man, a
Fool
Our obsession is schooled
Celebrities are
Hot
But we are
Not
Unless hours are spent
Our sister's clothes lent
We eat less, we

Our first daughter ate everything we put in her mouth. She would gobble it up and then beg for more. On the other hand, our second child pockets food away like a chipmunk, holding it in her cheek. She will sit in her high chair, toddle around the house, and beg for stories with a large bulge protruding from one side of her face. In these circumstances, she refuses to chew and swallow until we coax her into it.

This sand in our hands
Is slipping away
Our time for tomorrow
Taken up by today
The millennial downfall
Is our pride and false wisdom
Our obsession with highs
And our lack of true love
Productivity stems from caffeine
Willpower forgotten
Smitten with celebrities
Elevating internet fame
We see the world through a lens
Not knowing how to go get it
Conquered by lack of likes
We fall, defeated
Crushed by self-loathing
In comparison to others
We fall short in our eyes

This was really complicated to write. It's hard for me to explain deep or transcendent experiences -- without sounding drippy or absurd. I hope I didn't come across as both in this case, haha. I myself tend to be wary of other people capitalizing on these exalted moments for dramatic effect or false intimacy, but I hope my intentions come through as good... Sarah

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