packing the work of hands

packing sewing and quilt making fabric
and boxes of cards and graph papper 
of designs for various projects

sometimes I feel as though
I  have the attention span
of an amnesiac gnat
flit  flit  flit

many projects of great wiorth
that haven’t made it off
the drawing board
in 12 years or more

and a quilt top than only lacks backing and quilting
pieced and hand sewn
in the late ‘70’s

seeing them all
makes me want to get back
to doing them

I haven’t done any quilt making
in years -  not since I returned 
to knitting lace

and I still have trillions of beads
to pack up
from my bead work days

enough to keep me occupied
for at least 1000 years

between items of the Mind
and work of hands
I wouldn’t have even a femtosecond
of boredom

Bloomsday 2010

for peat’s sake

it’s Bloomsday again
a day for eccentrics of the lovelier 
  type  a mad crew of
palavering playmates
up to their eyepatches
 in wickered kishes
and wicked kisses

on riverbanks where riverruns
 on the way to one sea or another
arcane ceremony prevails
words hurtled between
bites of organic haruspiced treats
and the women all murmur   --Yes
whatever the question

pass the porter
pot the peas
restore disorder to
the book of deeds
 all of us recorded
 torqued into confusions
 compulsions confessed

count me one
making my witter
with all the rest

while I wait

and when the packing up
of a life is completed
what is there for a woman to do
while she waits___
there is the little pile of books
left out for reading in Limbo

they say that Limbo has been dismantled
so here am I   in an
abandoned station on the Line
where no trains stop
dust covered pews
tumble weeds rolling across the tiled floor
spider woven tapestry between the bars
at the ticket counter

it is always wise to carry a book
or two when traveling
to ease the waiting 
that is part of every trip

I have chosen thick ones
for the days between now 
 and mid-August:
Hugo’s Les Misérables
Melville’s Moby Dick
and Al-Biruni's India (unabridged)

and there is knitting___
a fantastic Limbo activity 

I have set aside
the recapitulation of all the Good
that has transpired in this wondrous 
 Lair of mine
as the Mind remains numb
 in temporary abeyance 
 while the Body puts my possessions
 into movable form

soon the books will all be boxed
and the kitchen/pantry
will yield to the packing process:
a more delicate affair!
good that I have all these 
bags of soft fleece
to be moved 
as they will cushion


out on a 
limb    limber   limbo
the flexible dance in a waiting place
  on point between two assemblages    now  
    (and past)  and
tarot shuffled  and let to fall
  where all foretelling   is fiction  

there is little  more forlorn
than empty shelves  maws open
hungry for books

the chapter
of this thick book I’ve been reading
  for years now
  about to be read
pages   still uncut
on the  next