Braving the Wilds

Field Notes from the Suburban Jungle

Tag: privacy

Subconsciousness

The perfectly still water
Rests, frozen, uncut by wake,
Paddle, or stroking arm
Under which hums a vibrant winter
World, running meters deep.
Fishermen sat in semi circles,
Perched atop upturned
Plastic tubs on the ice,
Swathed in khaki
Like cradle boarded babies
Huddling for comfort.

The Lake, unyielding, was forced
Out of its dormant state
By augers, long cork screws
Piercing through ice
Three feet thick.
One bundled man
Dropped a line through
The incision, an operatic
Procedure, while the others
Observed the delicate
Removal of one brown
Trout, glistening in the
Weak winter sun. An
Indigenous nurturer stocked with care,
Now lay in the muffled palm of
An outsider,
Who mercifully, with an
Altruistic stroke of water to the gills,
Released its struggling body
Back to its murky waters, to fight
Any invasive thought
In privacy.

Transportation Safety

The suitcase itself was identical
To the dozens or more being
Wheeled in line by a school
Of spawning salmon people
Struggling upstream to
A checkpoint, an obstacle
To the fast way home.

Hers was made unique
And discernible by
A red, frayed grosgrain ribbon
Missing the talisman
It once displayed around her neck,
But securing the broken
Zipper, locking away
The contents, the luggage
Too cumbersome for
Two outstretched
Cradling arms, or
Too personal to tote
Without cover.

A bear of a badged man,
Par chance, unzips her hidden world
With latex gloves and
Gunpowder detecting swabs.
Flushed with the abrupt intrusion,
The traveler looks underneath
The opened lid, the uninvited
glimpses at all that she has
Packed away:
The white blouse with yellowed
Orbs under the arms
That once made her feel
The polish of a more worthy woman,
But now worn only under
A cardigan cover,
Boxes of shortbread dipped
In dark chocolate that really
Weren’t destined for her elderly mother,
Silk underpinnings which were
Seen by no one, save her
And this uniformed stranger:
Intricate lace that once made her feel wanted,
And now only foolish.

Raising his eyebrows, he
Glances over bifocals,
Dirtied with dandruff and sweat,
At the vulnerable fish woman
Clutching a paperback best kept
Under brown paper covers,
A bottle, a needle, a thread.
Rumpled cottons chosen
For comfort when Pandora’s
Boxes were unceremoniously opened,
Are returned to their original piles
Now disturbed, disorderly, rumpled.

With trembling fingers, she pulls
The tab of the zipper, her
Gill-like lungs struggling for
Calm, safely containing
All that she carefully tucks away
To a neat place,
Hidden, dark, manageable
When unperturbed.
With a groan in the throat,
A strain of the shoulders, she raises
Her pain and wonders
If she’ll have to pay an
Additional fee required
For overweight parcels.

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