Breathe On Me
“Maybe it’s all going by too fast. I can’t remember what I did yesterday when somebody asks me. And yet ... I’m feeling it all, every excruciating second of it, as it peels back layer upon layer of deception, from cradle to grave. The panic to buy firewood, a day late & a dollar short, because I just didn’t know if I’d be staying, along with the scramble to beat that inevitable deficit, when supply dries up for the season. All I can say is: once again: saved by neighbors. The tip, the call, the deal struck, the delivery date. Then where my car used to park, the two enormous piles, unsure of their future. I know I won’t be cold now, just by a hair. What if you didn’t have the money to buy any? I’ve been like that. A divorce can do that, when all of a sudden you don’t have two people to support the farm. Do you know anyone who’s been left financially insecure? It’s not funny. But you laugh, you make jokes, you make due. You keep things going, at least on the surface. You swallow the pain that someone could ditch you so completely without conscience, when they were in a much better position. Raising kids doesn’t count for much these days, really. It’s just something you do no one pays you for. And why should something like that be attached to the monetary system? It’s part of the love system, obviously. And when you get put to the curb by a spouse, you still have a love inside you that regroups, eventually, a stash worth countless millions. I’m ready to spend again. Now, amidst an almost comical wasteland of compliant avoidance, I am in the prime of my life again. Ready to get close & intimate with my fellow creatures. Dear dog, dear cat, dear socially distancing fellow citizens at the post office or the dump, I am noticing you more than I ever did, and wishing to not scare you, as you push past me to get to your mail slot or recycle bin. But being basically oppositional by nature, I will not abide by any rule that tells me to fear you. It’s not in me to do so. No government official can convince me, nor pundit twist statistics to bring me into agreement. I didn’t get this far to throw away all I know about the need for things like handshakes or the occasional hug. Yet, your insistent belief that goes contrary to mine, I will respect. I will give you a wide berth. I will not exercise my god given right to breath in your area. I’ve always gone to the woods for solace, disappearing into them, for long periods of time. I will do my breathing towards moss and stumps. No harm done, I will retrace my steps up the brambly paths that have given me respite since childhood and never judged me, for as long as I must. I’ll find lung-fulls of only partially polluted air wherever I wander, up onto hilltops & abandoned pastures where no one is maintaining their “No Trespassing” signs. The aching reminder of so many years alone is easy for me to reinforce, if that is what is required. To remain un-reviled amongst the few friends I still have.”