this afternoon there was a large, evasive moth with red patterns on its wings. it was in the break room which is three doorways from the outside. I attempted to catch it and release it with a brown paper bag and a chipped pint glass… G. said, “I tried to do the same thing with a hummingbird. I kept trying to coax it outside but I was afraid I would kill it. So I left it alone and eventually it found its own way out.” I’m thinking of the moths I’ve tried to trap. There was cathedral music until it became Saturday and the secrecy enhanced itself beyond the story I meant to tell.
what I meant to say was there were choral vocals coming from the woods and I imagined them to be trees with different sexes, or microphones embedded into the heartwood of a cedar, the creekside trees fled something different, and what I still meant to say was I heard music come from the woods after reading about the elephants in the room, the elephants in the vistas, the elephants in the mason jars, intimate, extroverted, and close, too close, letting us ride this one out until a new kind of future is developed for us.
complaints haven’t gotten me anywhere in three years. what in the hell would I do with lakeside erosion control.