Once again, the sun is setting over the Catskill Mountains and I am watching the pale pink glow of the sun as it slips behind them, hoping the old adage, “red sun at night, sailor’s delight,” holds true as I have many things to accomplish tomorrow as Saturday, early, I am heading to DC to care for Zoey the cat.
One of the things I must do is replace the tire that went flat yesterday. I rolled into a tire place just at five and the man said, “See ya!” AAA came forty-five minutes later and found multiple things wrong with the tire. I went to my usual place as I think the tire might still be under warranty and found them inexplicably closed for the day. I’ll go back tomorrow.
What is below is a poem, first sketched out in Oaxaca, while sitting in the Church of Our Lady of Solitude. I don’t often share the poems I write though I thought I would send off this one to you. Enjoy, or not. Thanks!
Our Lady of Solitude, March, 2019
Our Lady of Solitude
sees me,
Her eyes pierce.
You are known,
She whispers,
All that solitude and loneliness.
Weighted by truth,
wanting to flee,
staying out of need,
glued to a pew meant
for believers,
I stay.
Yes, lady,
silent words
from the true part of
a once fecund soul.
Having conversation
with a statue, signals
madness never far
from
every separate day.
Seems fitting,
somehow,
Sebastian is at her side,
nearly naked,
before arrows robbed
him of young life.
Letter from the Vineyard 
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