..."why does a lillium spit out pollin"
...is the question that someone from Limerick, Ireland, asked Google, and how they landed on my blog. There are many lily landing places here.
It was exactly what I needed. A slow walk home, taking pictures of blossoms. The thin letter from the Dept. of Homeland Security heavy in my bag. Within 90 days they say, they will review why my citizenship has not gone through yet. April 4th was the latest day by which I should have heard, after my apparently successful December 4th interview. Another three months. At least it's movement. At least I exist in the numbers.
So many kind people have asked, When will you be a citizen, when will Vince move to New York?
I don't know I don't know I don't know. For a year and a half we have not known. His visa application was denied last year, so now we wait and wait and wait.
I got home, cried, picked up the cat, and listened to him purr.
Thank you Limerick, and I'm not sure my blog answered your question .
Why does a lilium spit out 'pollin'?
A lady lily, late at night, lurching home, weaving, sick to the stomach, spitting out yellow pollen, burping up Guiness fumes and Formosa fragrance, night pollinators stalking her in the shadows...
Five years ago this month I moved to this little apartment.
Then I wrote:
Fat moon rising in April
where jets pass like stars in the new east
My mouthful of red wine
pausing the chaos
of a life tipped
A sore back
A black cat
Books to unpack
My sounding board
waiting for lilies
Also in my bag, less heavy, Go! magazine's camp cooking booklet with my pictures and recipes. That was nice. And suddenly, hitting me in the solar plexus as I leaned on the pole in the subway car, a full page picture of my husband in the magazine, back turned to the fire at Klein Aus Vista, Namibia, chops and potatoes on the coals, Vincent looking at the sunset.
We've come a long way.