May I Suggest Yellow?

Photo by Tim Limón at my stepmom's memorial February 27, 2010

When my stepmom was in her last few days, she said to me while she lie in bed..."May I suggest yellow?" She looked around the room and it seemed as if she was saying we should paint it. Or it was the color for "afterward." For after the leaving and after the grieving. There was first purple, then space, and then yellow. On Saturday I missed her. I was low and so I walked across the bridge into the city and suddenly found myself in a store that sells home-goods. A yellow bedspread and $500 later, I was home with a bunch of cut daffodils and a house that felt lighter. I've never really liked yellow. And now I have it everywhere in my room. It makes me happy. It's spring. It's defiant life. It's weeds in the sidewalk. It's weeds in the heart. C'mon weeds, I'm rooting for you.

Thanks, Universe, for Last Night, for Poetry...

Photo by Alex Battles


Last night was lovely. I read with Lindsay Turner and John Burnside. How wonderful. I had never heard John read, but I was familiar with his work. Beautiful, sad, Scottish poems. He introduced one like this, "There is nothing worse than being in love, and there is nothing worse than a Scot in love." A man after my own heart. Here's to poetry! Here's to the universe! Universe, I'm going to write you a poem.