Unbeknownst

To encapsulate the unattainable, you speak to me of work

66 To encapsulate the unattainable, you speak to me of work but I to you of a white goat. I say how the goat escapes, always, just as a piece of it has become visible to me. Above the bark of a fallen tree, I saw the topmost ridge of hair along the back of the white goat, gone as I focused harder. To the side of the cabin a little ways off, I glimpsed the paintbrush tail of the white goat. I imagined the neck bent to the hostas, a luscious stand of them below the small rear window. And what peered at me in traffic through two slots in a livestock truck but the face of the white goat? I stared, incredulous, as it passed me to merge with traffic headed towards Toledo. These are the subjects we endure in order that we may better understand each other. And consider how different they are: the coyness and carelessness and striving of your co-workers, the appearances of the goat; the routine revamping of technologies you depend on, and the intangibility of the goat. This evening I reported: “Today, the first spring-like day! How the goat would have enjoyed it!” All morning, as I worked in the yard removing old leaves and old growth, I pictured him standing on the grassy mound (not much longer or wider than himself), to get a better view of the neighbors’ crocus. ...