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This poem on my screen

is defined by the flipping of electrons,

is coded into the speech of atoms:

a different music from that I seek, 

but beautiful, nonetheless.

There is an elegance in the dance of atoms,

but it requires an attentive ear

to hear equations singing;

an eye attuned to patterns

of unseen and barely-imagined

mysteries.

Surely it must be a kind of magic

(or even poetry)

that finds my signal

(the electrons of my message)

amidst the noise and chaos of this universe

and sends it straight to you.

Home again...and way behind the proverbial eight-ball.

It's been a busy summer. No sooner did I recover from Poetry Month in April than I was thrown (along with my sister and brother) into the maelstrom of getting things ready for my mom's move to a retirement community (which loosely translates to throwing out all sorts of treasured items that wouldn't fit in the new space.) Interspersed with that was a stint of babysitting with Audrey in Seattle while her mom got to do at least a little of what she had planned to do at the Sleep Conference. I returned home to the prospect of our Summer Associate dinner/wine tasting--only 30 people, but still requiring time and attention. Then the actual packing and moving process in Baltimore, culminating in...a two week trip to San Diego/Tucson for Audrey's first birthday and some long-overdue maintenance at the SD house. Coming back to Alexandria and picking up all the loose ends--in Baltimore and here--consumed most of last week.

We are home again, at last. And the pace is once again picking up. A poem for the Alexandria Birthday celebration. Church responsibilities. A firm summer party this week. A brunch in August for our Dine with Nine group. Contemporary American Theater Festival in Shepherdstown at the end of this month. A gig with the Del Ray Artisans Summer Camp on the 28th. And, of course, the weekly trek to Baltimore to see how things are going at what JC calls "the home."

My car needs an oil change and a serious wash. My garden is somewhat the worse for wear, given the lack of rain this month. I need to de-clutter the attic and make an attempt at clearing out part of our storage area. I'm bored with everything I cook right now. I need to touch base with all the friends who have been neglected while I dealt with everything else. I have started the process of self-publication of a book of my poems--but haven't worked through all the kinks. And I owe Audrey a photo-book of her 1st birthday.

In other words, I am returning to my quasi-normal, half-completed to-do lists; I have more to do than I'll find time to accomplish in what's left of the summer. I have seized upon watering the garden as one thing I CAN accomplish that actually shows results. It is, as they say, what it is. Or, in French..que sera, sera.