The games we play

Today had been forecast to be cooler and wetter, so we made up some sourdough to bake. Today has turned out to be partly cloudy and quite warm (80℉ at the moment) but the dough had risen nicely, so it went into the oven. We’ll rely on the AC to get us through. If we believe the forecast, this may be the week that summer weather actually begins locally, no rain and the prospect of 90’s by next weekend. This isn’t a complaint. We’re not jealous of those who are experiencing wildfires and heat domes. On the other hand, we have been starting to think we understood how Noah felt around the 35th day.

if only they all turned out this well

Photo by J. Harrington

This looks like the time in the season to pick away at some outside chores and fit in a fishing trip or two, without overdoing either. But first, we have to rehang the horsefly trap, a big blue ball covered in sticky goo. The flies are back and last year we got a pleasant surprise when we saw how many ended up stuck in the goo. The dogs appreciate having fewer flies harass them at least as much as the humans. Then, if I get really ambitious, the Jeep could get washed, but that may bring back the rain. Sigh. I know, I’ll hold off Jeep washing until many of the flies are stuck where they can’t harass me as I’m holding a hose or a sponge.

For a recent birthday, I asked for, and received, a copy of Greg Brown’s wonderful album, The Poet Game. I already had a copy of Ani DiFranco's rendition of the title song and wanted to hear it sung by the writer. I’m very grateful I’ve never had to choose between, or among, fishing, poetry and music. Each brings considerable joy to my life. In these times, doesn’t each of us need as much of that kind of joy as we can get. Of course we do. Now, I hope you enjoy

the poet game

By Greg Brown

Down by the river junior year
Walking with my girl
And we came upon a place
There in the tall grass where a couple
Had been making love
And left the mark of their embrace
I said to her, "Looks like they had some fun."
She said to me, "Let's do the same."
And still I taste her kisses
And her freckles in the sun
When I play the poet game

A young man down in hill country
In the year of '22
Went to see his future bride
She lived in a rough old shack
That poverty blew through
She invited him inside
She'd been cooking, ashamed and feeling sad
She could only offer him bread and her name -
Grandpa said that it was the best gift
A fella ever had
And he taught me the poet game

I had a friend who drank too much
And played too much guitar -
And we sure got along
Reel-to-reels rolled across
The country near and far
With letters poems and songs..
But these days he don't talk to me
And he won't tell me why
I miss him every time i say his name
I don't know what he's doing
Or why our friendship died
While we played the poet game 

The fall rain was pounding down

On an old New Hampshire mill
And the river wild and high
I was talking to her while leaves blew down
Like a sudden chill -
There was wildness in her eyes
We made love like we'd been waiting
All of our lives for this -
Strangers know no shame -
But she had to leave at dawn
And with a sticky farewell kiss
Left me to play the poet game

I watched my country turn into
A coast-to-coast strip mall
And I cried out in a song:
If we could do all that in thirty years
Then please tell me you all -
Why does good change take so long?
Why does the color of your skin
Or who you choose to love
Still lead to such anger and pain?
And why do I think it's any help
For me to still dream of
Playing the poet game?

Sirens wail above the fields -
Another soul gone down -
Another Sun about to rise
I've lost track of my mistakes
Like birds they fly around
And darken half of my skies
To all of those I've hurt -
I pray you'll forgive me
I to you will freely do the same
So many things I didn't see
With my eyes turned inside
Playing the poet game

I walk out at night to take a leak
Underneath the stars -
Oh yeah that's the life for me
There's Orion and the Pleiades
And I guess that must be Mars -
All as clear as we long to be
I've sung what I was given -
Some was bad and some was good
I never did know from where it came
And if I had it all to do again
I am not sure I would
Play the poet game

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