Monday, Monday

Russian Typewriter

Oh, my dear Miss Karen. You would’ve loved a day like this one, as Billboard did long before any talk of war or hormones. The pusses anticipate that those legendary showers might return this very April after many seasons of May arousals. May flowers, similarly, are ashamed of their bloomers and their lateness in bursting.

The Fool’s Day is Wednesday: Marigold’s first and Henry’s twelfth. My beloved and I have shared a baker’s dozen of such silly, yet somehow important days. We no longer discard them. Instead, we rinse them off. And somehow, Lord knows, our talks always turn to recollections. We seem so anxious to share them before they are lost in a sealed vacuum of memories.

I best begin my day and its welcome regimen, and ready myself for the nurse.

On this day of raining pets: stay warm, be kind, and keep your galoshes handy, my friends.

And remember that the day still can’t be trusted. Oh, Casey we miss you!

(Image: “Russian Typewriter” by Lucy Gaylord-Lindholm, oil on panel, 2012.)

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