Albo P Fossa—September 19, 2021
The Diné say, “Hush!”
For the first time, I saw a life hushed. She shook. It shook me, in my thoughts and dreams. I called to mind all her life, youth to age. And I called up the end of my own. As time goes by, we must move on.
We dispersed things she owned. Gentle cards and letters sprinkled to and fro. Numbers, calls, and questions piled up to close a life’s papers and affairs.
Choices remain to scatter a life’s ashes. Beyond the things, beyond the ashes, the thoughts whisper time to time.
Summer seems hardly gone. Fall nears. A few yellow leaves have popped up at Junior Tree’s edges, and in the cottonwood. In the breeze, they click, not pat. This may be the hummingbirds’ last food refill for their visit.
Lao Tzu said, “Those who know don’t talk. Those who talk don’t know.”
Hear the wind?