These Things...

THESE THINGS… And so, I thought I will write me a list of the sublime -those subtle things that sustained me through: prison, watching my ex-husband’s descent into madness and 4 children dead,- or rather, not born. And it is through the contents of my list these things -not pompous or grand that I keep plodding forward. Remembering the taste of baklava, shrimp sautéed in garlic butter… The sound of- Pavarotti singing Ave Maria, a gypsy’s violin or Louisiana blues harmonica- That exact color of blue in a peacock’s tail feathers and the look of wildness in the eyes of that wolf in the zoo- the scent of lilacs and lily of the valley, the poetry of Luis Rodriguez or Miklos Radnoti. An odd mixture perhaps, but, sufficient enough for me.