Old spice…

Giovanna studied Hannah for a moment,

taking in the red scarf and the dark hair,

and then said,

“You know as well as I do that it is forbidden,

for Jews to deliver Christian babies…

What if,

God forbid,

the child requires immediate baptism???”

“Then you can provide that service…”

“As I have for all of the other babies born to her,” Giovanna said,

her broad face set in a frown…

For a Jew to have Christian foes was dangerous…

She would have to handle this midwife with care…

Hannah went to the washbasin beside the bed,

wrung out the wet cloth,

and placed it on the Contessa’s forehead…

—  in The Midwife of Venice, by Roberta Rich

When you’ve got,

your heart set,

on creating a colony,

it is only wise,

to wear,

kid gloves…

If you throw,

a bunch,

of rabbits,

each with their own,

complex histories,

altogether,

into the same territory,

without some,

forethought,

you risk,

a potential recipe,

for disaster…

Some rabbits,

will bond immediately,

but others need,

a slow,

and gentle,

human hand,

to simulate,

mutual grooming,

which generates,

a feeling,

of well-being,

and relaxation,

when the individuals,

are placed,

side-by-side,

in a neutral zone…

I had a dream,

a few weeks ago,

in which I was being shown,

a topographical map,

of the past,

by a neighbour,

who is an agent,

of real estate…

He said something,

about property,

in Australia,

and even though,

I really didn’t want,

to go there,

he urged me into,

this newfangled vehicle,

that is myself,

and told me,

that with so much,

practice,

I could now let go,

of my tendency,

toward worry…

The skills required,

for the steering system,

don’t work,

in a straight line,

but with perseverance,

I finally got,

the hang of it,

and overcame,

my many fears,

of failure…

When I was a girl,

I loved to stop,

at the Stampede and Tack,

in Cloverdale,

on the way,

to visit with,

family friends…

I’d take my time,

running fingers,

over the braille,

of bridles,

saddles,

and boots…

And draw the scent,

of all I knew,

through,

the nostrils,

of my time machine…

And the other place,

I’d high tail it to,

when the family station wagon,

pulled off the gravel,

and into,

the evergreen forest,

was to the mouth,

of a tunnel,

running under East Road…

In the wind,

of that creek,

roaring,

into a pool,

of yesterday,

as I stood,

in the opening,

I felt,

a story,

of tomorrow,

in my pinky toes…

You can tell a lot,

by the instrument,

a person plays,

when they’re rocking out,

at a red light…

But that’s nothing,

compared,

to the hit single,

you get,

when your drum kit,

recognizes,

an air guitar,

in the middle of,

the pouring rain…