Meditation

Fish fly in the ocean, water is their sky
their lives in three dimensions, they jump into the air
escaping larger fish, schools of large and small fry
but up above their ceiling fly birds who eat them there
I dwell on the flat, can jump on land or fly in planes
go right or left or back or front, but less up and down
did seals come onto land but regret the ocean main
return to ocean free again to swim around
my daughter’s team synchronized at the surface of the pool
legs held straight out then spiral down into the water’s embrace
breath held, they disappear, they seem to break the rules
of oxygen. I hold mine too until they surface for a space
fish fly in the ocean, water is their sky
sometimes we dream of heavens where we remember how to fly

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My daughter was a synchronized swimmer from age 7 to high school, then swim team. Her comfort in the element of water is way beyond most people.

My daughter entering her other element.

The close picture was taken with my zoom lens, but she was not close at all.

I was “life guarding” though she was out far enough that there was not much I could do.

_________________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: sturdy. I am not sure why. I was thinking that the ocean is sturdy and that fish can swim in more dimensions than we humans on land. And swimmers are sturdy too.

I took the first photograph in 2017 at the Baltimore Aquarium.

Finch Face

YOU thought I said “Fish face.” Fish faces came up at the wedding.

When my son is a baby, he goes with my husband for a well child check. I am in residency and can’t get away. The doctor asks, “Can he play patty cake?”

“No,” says my husband, “but he can make a fish face.” My husband has a long narrow face. He pulls both ears out and purses his lips. He wiggles his ears.

My son promptly makes a fish face.

“Good enough,” says the doctor.

My son has a small godson. They have mostly said hi on zoom. My son has taught his godson to make a fish face. When they visit in person, he makes the fish face and his godson’s face lights up. Oh, this is THAT person and they are REAL, not just on a screen!

The godson is the ring bearer at the wedding last Sunday. I tell him I am his godfather’s mother and make a fish face. Then I call my ex over. He makes a fish face and the godson is delighted. All of these talented people at the wedding! Who know about fish faces!

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: faces. Very Happy Mother’s Day to everyone, who is a mother, has a mother, is a grandmother, has a grandmother. I could go on.

Upstage

I am reading Kim Addonizio’s Ordinary Genius, A Guide for the Poet Within, for a class. In the chapter about cliches, she suggests choosing a cliche and playing with it. The first example on her list is “A sudden fear gripped me”, so she inspired this:

Upstage

A sudden fear gripped me by my nipples
I hear my mother: Colder than a witch’s titty
Why must the witch’s titties be cold?
Must they dance naked even in the bitter winter?
Can a witch retire at a certain age
Sit warm, clothed, with her cat and tea
By a fire with enough fuel for winter?
You’d think they’d get pneumonia dancing naked
In any weather; yet witches are usually old.
Maybe it acts like jumping in to cold water
To dance around a Beltane fire; maybe witchery
is hot work and they aren’t cold at all.
Maybe a witch’s titty is warm all the time
And meanwhile the fear is gone, upstaged by titties.

rebel ducks

Yes, ducks with Mohawks, these ducks are rebels and rascals. I saw a gang fishing, probably without a fishing license, out at Fort Worden this week. They couldn’t be bothered to notice me. Hopefully they didn’t notice that I was capturing their picture.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: rascal.

These are red-breasted mergansers. Read more here.

elevated eagle

For today’s Ragtag Daily Prompt: elevate.

Walking the beach this past week, we saw this eagle. We thought he or she was pretty happy. Why?

First, there were patches of little fish on the beach.

patches of little fish on the beach: dead fish

We discussed the fish. Did they get chased by a predator and get left by a receding wave? Interesting.

Then we wondered why there were no gulls eating the little fish. No birds eating the little fish at all.

And then we figured out why:

Dead seagull wings and beak and not much else left.

Oh, we thought. Amazing how much the gull looked like a dead angel at first.

And a bit further along the beach, the eagle sat, looking very happy. Mmmm, seagull.

The happy eagle.