MAN, IT'S GOOD HAVING HER BACK HOME!

 

MAN, IT’S GOOD HAVING HER BACK HOME!

She’s home. Karen is.

And she tells me all about her retreat,

she’s telling me now,

how she finished her quilted star

with all that light white fabric

and the shattered yellow points

separating and splaying out bang

into space in the landscape

of the universe, this, this,

shining linen. I open a jar

of peaches and dish some up for her

eating one slice myself while

spooning in the syrup. I eat

a shortbread cookie while I’m doing this.

She was gone with her girl friends,

Karen was, four days three nights.

It was cold in Idaho she says

and she didn’t have enough blankets

and even if she didn’t sleep all that well

she held her own. She had her trekking

poles to get around, so beautiful

by the lake and she had a good setup

for her sewing machine and gear,

so many threads and all that fabric.

She showed me pictures of the clouds

she took from the back seat of the car

on the way home, and I say, My God,

Karen, they’re stunning, Can you turn

these vapor shapes into cloth

and make a sky the way you made

that star exploding in all of its pointed

yellow against the linen, and can you

make a sky? You could, Karen.

I’d love to see it I’d just love to see

you try. She told me about the quilters,

the women, how she and her friends

were elders, the elders, and one woman

emailed her after she got home

and found a tic in her hair. You

better check mine, she says,

and I did. It was fun, and I didn’t find

a thing but loved going through her

hair like that with my fingers. She’d

had it cut the day before she left

and it looked good, so hip,

and I got a really good look at it

while massaging her scalp.

You can rub my back, too

she said after I take a shower

and that’s what we did.

Jim Bodeen

29 April 2024