Paul comes in with winter in his eyes, Irish cold and sparkling.
I have been packing our little New England life away because we have made the decision to move back home, back home into the little island corner of the world where his clan began, where they became restless to move forward and outward like a pulsating heartbeat into the wild painting the modern landscape in their image in their striking cold likeness.
"Did you get nana's shawl?"
"I even want to carry the rosewood jewellery box across the ocean"
"Joce, it has to all fit into the parts we discussed"
I look at him long and hard.
I remember the harbour, the long rainy nights listening to music longingly beside him, I always stood with him.
Our union, unlike a marriage, has withstood the test of time like marriage.
Divorced of a wedding, Paul and I have recreated a wedding for the books.
"You silly thing, you have managed to inject poetry into the most mundane"
*
As I pack away my life and his, he tells me his friend will be staying with us for the next few weeks and will eventually rent out our home from Paul for the next two years or so for a construction project he has been assigned to.
Diederik appears on our doorstep so new and light, like morning sunshine - stark and unannounced.
Paul and I exchange glances and he gives me a little knowing wink for show. Like in a play. Theatre. He is so good at it - inherited it from his mother's side. Grand palais hotels and the like. Paul is well bred. Paul is the centre of this moving piece and he majestically unfolds the machinations to follow in this microcosm that expands my life and his infinitely forward.
I shake Diederik's hand and he shakes mine seriously.
"Nice to meet you, Jocelyn. Paul has spoken very highly of you and I have to admit I was nervous to move in with you lot before you head out. Almost like I was taking part in a rite of passage without knowing what I was signing up for"
"Diederik, it's wonderful to meet you. Welcome to our home. I will make you a hot coffee and put some logs on. You can stay in the guest bedroom as I clear out the master bedroom and we can start moving your things in"
He takes his checkered coat off and when he shakes my hand I see the freckles on his hands and think of sunflowers opening up to the sun in the late autumn. I think of Van Gogh I think of Monet and shake my head to focus on the task at hand.
I think Paul has seen me lose focus in the whimsy and he moves to tend to the fire.
Diederik respectfully follows Paul after looking longingly at me and it makes me feel good in this coldest depth of winter.
We drink the hot coffee with some biscuits while we discuss the next few weeks of transition and he soon takes to his bedroom and washes for the night. By the time I turn the lights off for bed and feel Paul move in beside me under the covers, the stars are out and the feeling of home while moving away from home has never been stronger. I feel a pull toward the centre of the earth where we belong, where we all came from where we are all going like a hollow echo wistfully winking forever alone shining from beneath our heart tremors back to us.
At the bottom of the ocean, Orpheus and his lyre
his eyes here
his heart there
scattered pieces of poetry
unrhymed, unspoken. Unhushed. Undulating underneath Eurydice's skirts. Moving with uncharted desires.
His eyes here
his heart there
scattered pieces of poetry.
**
"So, I was at the office and Mother calls me on the telephone saying she has a banker friend who has facilitated a very big transaction in Northwest Maine like I know what she's talking about or something. Some McLaren estates or something out in northern Augusta or something."
"What's out there?"I ask him, as I lean one hand against the radiator heating up my fingertips taking long drags of cigarette as I look out onto the lake from City Hall.
"August, honey"
We both laugh and imagine a lush summer. We laugh again.
"Alright, tell me the rest" I smile against the telephone
"So, anyways I agree to meet with this fellow. We have dinner at a steakhouse heart the Met. He is basically my double - tall and lanky and Irish and very calculated. He was like my double or something. I wonder where the hell my mother found him and what strings she had to pull to make this happen"
I think to myself it isn't hard to find Paul's double - he looks so classic.
He personifies him - his clean attire, the self-manicured clean hands and does the best impression even through the phone and we laugh a while and I enjoy the moment tremendously.
"So anyways, there we are sat and he tells me of this multimillion dollar deal and how we basically have to house the head architect at our home while he gets settled in from out in Dutch New York and how perfect that I am a New York man myself and how I even though our home is in Maine I will anticipate his New Yorker desires and the like. I look at him like he's mad Joce cuz at the end of the day men have all the same needs and whether they move across the state lines or across the globe it's all the same clean earth water good woman, bed and food I tell him"
I nod with pleasure.
"I say yes of course he can stay at ours while we prepare to move on to England again and how you're wonderful and you will make him feel at home in our little home before we head out"
"Paul, how long is he staying with us?"
"Well, honey, I think until we're ready to leave. I know it's difficult but I guess Mother has much stake in this because the banker wants to make sure this bloke will be well taken care of or something since this project is huge and will be making Augusta what it will become or something"
"We shall house a creator"
"He will create from within the nest"
"He will"
We both laugh. I love when Paul talks to me and when we connect even through the static telephone lines pulled underneath the rich soil of New England touching up through all the cities and slumber and work overhead. It makes me think of the honour of work.
*
"Good morning Diederik"
"Good morning Jocelyn"
We both smile at each other across the breakfast table. I leave the coffee on the table and move with chiffon sound from the kitchen into the great hall to put my hat on and get ready for my walk to work.
"Do you want some toast for the walk to work?"
"No, thanks Diederik"
"Have a beautiful day, Jocey"
"Have a good day."
At the bottom of the ocean, Orpheus and his lyre
his eyes here
his heart there
scattered pieces of poetry
unrhymed, unspoken. Unhushed. Undulating underneath Eurydice's skirts. Moving with uncharted desires.
His eyes here
his heart there
scattered pieces of poetry.
I have been packing our little New England life away because we have made the decision to move back home, back home into the little island corner of the world where his clan began, where they became restless to move forward and outward like a pulsating heartbeat into the wild painting the modern landscape in their image in their striking cold likeness.
"Did you get nana's shawl?"
"I even want to carry the rosewood jewellery box across the ocean"
"Joce, it has to all fit into the parts we discussed"
I look at him long and hard.
I remember the harbour, the long rainy nights listening to music longingly beside him, I always stood with him.
Our union, unlike a marriage, has withstood the test of time like marriage.
Divorced of a wedding, Paul and I have recreated a wedding for the books.
"You silly thing, you have managed to inject poetry into the most mundane"
*
As I pack away my life and his, he tells me his friend will be staying with us for the next few weeks and will eventually rent out our home from Paul for the next two years or so for a construction project he has been assigned to.
Diederik appears on our doorstep so new and light, like morning sunshine - stark and unannounced.
Paul and I exchange glances and he gives me a little knowing wink for show. Like in a play. Theatre. He is so good at it - inherited it from his mother's side. Grand palais hotels and the like. Paul is well bred. Paul is the centre of this moving piece and he majestically unfolds the machinations to follow in this microcosm that expands my life and his infinitely forward.
I shake Diederik's hand and he shakes mine seriously.
"Nice to meet you, Jocelyn. Paul has spoken very highly of you and I have to admit I was nervous to move in with you lot before you head out. Almost like I was taking part in a rite of passage without knowing what I was signing up for"
"Diederik, it's wonderful to meet you. Welcome to our home. I will make you a hot coffee and put some logs on. You can stay in the guest bedroom as I clear out the master bedroom and we can start moving your things in"
He takes his checkered coat off and when he shakes my hand I see the freckles on his hands and think of sunflowers opening up to the sun in the late autumn. I think of Van Gogh I think of Monet and shake my head to focus on the task at hand.
I think Paul has seen me lose focus in the whimsy and he moves to tend to the fire.
Diederik respectfully follows Paul after looking longingly at me and it makes me feel good in this coldest depth of winter.
We drink the hot coffee with some biscuits while we discuss the next few weeks of transition and he soon takes to his bedroom and washes for the night. By the time I turn the lights off for bed and feel Paul move in beside me under the covers, the stars are out and the feeling of home while moving away from home has never been stronger. I feel a pull toward the centre of the earth where we belong, where we all came from where we are all going like a hollow echo wistfully winking forever alone shining from beneath our heart tremors back to us.
At the bottom of the ocean, Orpheus and his lyre
his eyes here
his heart there
scattered pieces of poetry
unrhymed, unspoken. Unhushed. Undulating underneath Eurydice's skirts. Moving with uncharted desires.
His eyes here
his heart there
scattered pieces of poetry.
**
"So, I was at the office and Mother calls me on the telephone saying she has a banker friend who has facilitated a very big transaction in Northwest Maine like I know what she's talking about or something. Some McLaren estates or something out in northern Augusta or something."
"What's out there?"I ask him, as I lean one hand against the radiator heating up my fingertips taking long drags of cigarette as I look out onto the lake from City Hall.
"August, honey"
We both laugh and imagine a lush summer. We laugh again.
"Alright, tell me the rest" I smile against the telephone
"So, anyways I agree to meet with this fellow. We have dinner at a steakhouse heart the Met. He is basically my double - tall and lanky and Irish and very calculated. He was like my double or something. I wonder where the hell my mother found him and what strings she had to pull to make this happen"
I think to myself it isn't hard to find Paul's double - he looks so classic.
He personifies him - his clean attire, the self-manicured clean hands and does the best impression even through the phone and we laugh a while and I enjoy the moment tremendously.
"So anyways, there we are sat and he tells me of this multimillion dollar deal and how we basically have to house the head architect at our home while he gets settled in from out in Dutch New York and how perfect that I am a New York man myself and how I even though our home is in Maine I will anticipate his New Yorker desires and the like. I look at him like he's mad Joce cuz at the end of the day men have all the same needs and whether they move across the state lines or across the globe it's all the same clean earth water good woman, bed and food I tell him"
I nod with pleasure.
"I say yes of course he can stay at ours while we prepare to move on to England again and how you're wonderful and you will make him feel at home in our little home before we head out"
"Paul, how long is he staying with us?"
"Well, honey, I think until we're ready to leave. I know it's difficult but I guess Mother has much stake in this because the banker wants to make sure this bloke will be well taken care of or something since this project is huge and will be making Augusta what it will become or something"
"We shall house a creator"
"He will create from within the nest"
"He will"
We both laugh. I love when Paul talks to me and when we connect even through the static telephone lines pulled underneath the rich soil of New England touching up through all the cities and slumber and work overhead. It makes me think of the honour of work.
*
"Good morning Diederik"
"Good morning Jocelyn"
We both smile at each other across the breakfast table. I leave the coffee on the table and move with chiffon sound from the kitchen into the great hall to put my hat on and get ready for my walk to work.
"Do you want some toast for the walk to work?"
"No, thanks Diederik"
"Have a beautiful day, Jocey"
"Have a good day."
At the bottom of the ocean, Orpheus and his lyre
his eyes here
his heart there
scattered pieces of poetry
unrhymed, unspoken. Unhushed. Undulating underneath Eurydice's skirts. Moving with uncharted desires.
His eyes here
his heart there
scattered pieces of poetry.
*
When you have one month left to live
in a city
You start looking at things
like they are
and your heart breaks a little because it was always whole
in a million little pieces.
*
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