Continued

Receding Planets of the Rowan Tree

Receding Planets of the Rowan Tree There's always something more important —little bottles half-filled with Cardiamid-and-Caffeine, still alive, even when empty they're alive, since they stand by the basket of bread and the Homemade Gingerbread Mix and the still untouched jar of Herb Honey. The untidied apartment is alive — not something, it's life that is more important. The enlarged liver doesn't have to mean the worst. It could have tired itself with hormones, brown bread and a bit of pork. The table drawer full of odds and ends would no longer be alive if it were put straight. If books were ordered in the closet, the photos in the album, the rest of the dirty clothes washed, the room repainted — they too would no longer live. It's necessary to eat, take medicines, put the bowl by the bed, get out of bed, make tea and call the doctor who won't wipe his shoes but mechanically writing out the prescription, will say:you have a nice picture there, madam. 52 As a matter of fact very nice, especially in the afternoon, when it catches the sun. 53 (November 1985) ...