Absence and I

Night time again. My bike is the color of forest in the full moon’s light. Pulses of photons waver off into the atmosphere beyond and behind my bicycle. The tires rotate towards me and away all in one continuous motion.  I think of the afternoon explaining away how electrons reveal the microscopic details of a sample much better than light can…how we still require scintillation to interpret all that information.


I am lagging with the heavy heartbeat of the hills. Who rules the trajectory of my journey better than they and my asphyxiating rear tire? The test results came back in the mail, say my blood is just fine perfectly balanced. But still, I can no longer hang on to classes long enough to see them through. I must slow down sometimes. Not even trees stand still, at any moment they are pumping gallons and gallons of water up from the ground cycling organic nutrients through xylem and phloem, inspiring and exhaling, releasing volatile oils, rearranging their roots…

In the forest this morning, I stood with soggy feet as my phone rang with an unfamiliar number. I spoke calmly to a potential employer through the throb of my brain. A short cut that was to be longer than my original path pulled me through standing water. On I went, carrying bicycle over downed tree limbs, cutting paths through false lily of the valley.

Speeding down hill, wind chill. The high definition of the moon bracketed by two clouds like angel wings. The atmospheric shifts push them on. The water mass turns to a skull or half of a heart.

Earlier, I stood staring blankly at a crowded venue unable to recall the words of all the poems I’d etched into my brain. One judge scribbled an image of the grim reaper. Still, somehow, recognition found me. Forgetting everything is not embarrassing if you can pull together the strands. The woman poet I drove home intoned, “Meditation,” as I struggled with the road.

I got certified to play around with my schools Scanning Electron Microscope and Auto-montage scope pretty much anytime they are available. I regret not doing this sooner. But when is there time? Perhaps I will be able to share some pictures with you in the coming weeks if I ever find time and space of mind to take them.


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