Leaving (Written in December of 2017 in West Brattleboro, Vermont)

Leaving Israel

There is sadness

I love going

Hate leaving

It sounds so contradictory

Perhaps it has to do with

The fact

That I have been leading

Two different lives

All all these years

For so very long

Fly stop fly

Boston

Always looking down

The islands shimmer

Beneath the clouds

Filled with plans that are far too many

Too many but never enough

It is better to be let down

By things we have not accomplished

Than buoyed by promises

We never intended to keep

Driving

My leg explodes two nights later

Baseball-sized wad of muscle

Begs to be let out

I cringe

Once alone

Once with friends

Hang onto the bathroom sink

Thinking, “I won’t throw-up”

I don’t

The pain lasts for days

Something is in my backyard

Living

A bear?

I see its trail ending

Between the pines

It is warmer there

This animal is sleeping by my house as well

I see where it goes

Friends

Mother

Two hours to West Hartford

Visits for 3-5

Two hours to Brattleboro

I have not done enough

I hear about this

I am called on this

I am not doing enough

Even I have jumped on this bandwagon

I keep asking myself, “What is enough”

Six thousand miles

Rental cars

Bills are flying at me

Hitting me on the side of my head

You are home

You are not home

Do you have a home?

Vermont to Plum Island

Stop at Doane Falls

The roads are isolated

Winter has arrived

But there is not a strangle grip

That comes later

Next week and the week after

I creep down snowy slopes

Onto an iced-over stream

Carefully

The ice is not solid

I crack through the ice and feel my shoe fill

Slightly

Cold water makes me laugh

My tripod and camera are safe

I know this photo will be beautiful

I recompose

The photo will be beautiful

I will stay far too late entranced by the

Slanted light

Two days in Plum Island

Up at sunrise

Again lucky with images

That are subtle, beautiful, time stamped

Winter, ice, snow

Shards of what I know best

Audubon People welcome me like family

Kind and warm

Yet the weather

Wind blowing and close to freezing

I have forgotten how to dress

I freeze

Yet the photos are good

I am stunned again later to find

Images that speak loudly to me

I visit

My cousin and her husband

Walden Pond

Russian men fishing

For Transcendental trout

Which are caught on barbed hooks

I see my father in her actions

See me in her physical strength

Sadly, I leave

My days are overplanned

I have to move

Brattleboro again

I wait and watch my backyard

A dog

The Dog

Looking at me but running

When I open the door

I get friends to help me

We get food

I feed The Dog and shop for The Dog

The Dog has a beautiful face

It is a strong Dog

It is scared

I buy canned food

Treats

It runs when I open the door

An ice storm

Trees are weighted

Glistening

I have to photograph

Risk the road

Brake carefully

I hike

Into a forest

Alone

Water runs through the gorge

I line up photos

I will notice later

How beautiful the trees were

How the snow held them tightly

Feel that the crunching of the snow

And ice

Is in tune

A well-timed beat

Brattleboro home

I buy a bone for The Dog

I leave it and come back

An hour later

Still there

Two hours later

Gone

The dog is still eating

We have filled the cage with food

To catch her

To help her

The weather is getting colder

Record lows are on their way

I will learn again what minus 12 degrees

Feels like

I did not want The Dog to learn this

But that’s not what happens

At 1:00 a.m. I am up

I hear the cage pop

I wait for a plaintive wailing

Silence

I wait for angry barking

Silence

Maybe I never heard the cage door close?

I shine my flashlight outside

It has closed

I go outside with my flashlight

The Dog is in the cage

The Dog looks at me

Silently

Resignedly

The Dog is shaking

Its coat is wet from the rain

I call the police

At 2:00 a.m.

We drag the cage to his car

It’s too large

The officer produces a stick

With a noose

He loops it around The Dog’s neck

I expect a fight

A struggle

Again, I am wrong

The Dog goes quietly into his back seat

There is so much I don’t understand

Until I realize that I do understand

The Dog wanted to be caught

I can clearly see this

At least The Dog’s belly is full

Canned food, dried food, treats, bones

Craftsbury

First time on cross country skies

For so many years

My friend is a skier

He forgets that I live in sand

I struggle

Muscles that are not ready for this

But I remember enough

Am still strong enough

Tough enough

And ever so stubborn

I will hurt after this ski

I will smile

Craftsbury

Next day

Christmas

I deliver meals

Meals on wheels

My wheels

Snow and ice are on the road

My wheels skid to dangerous stops

But I stop

First man - alone

Detritus, detritus

Eyes filled with fluids

White thermal underwear

Stained brown

Ripped

Torn

Next family

Blesses me

Hugs me

I leave and after ten minutes

Realize I only delivered one of the

Two meals

Backtrack through ice and snow

More hugs

More blessings

Third family

No answer

Neighbors don’t know who lives

In their small trailer house

Pounding on doors

Yelling

Man opens and too weak to hold

His meal on wheels

I help him

A scream of thanks from somewhere

In the house

The door slams

Fourth house

Sign says

“No trespassing

Violators will be shot

Survivors prosecuted”

The door opens and I make a joke

Smiles

A connection

Final house

Another trailer

More detritus

Kindness

A gift of a book

Final day in Craftsbury

I ski most of the time

On my own

My pace

The pace of a Middle Easterner

Skate ski

At times I feel in control

Weightless

My smile can’t be contained

Before I leave the far north

I buy treats for The Dog

I will visit The Dog

I’ve been praying for a miracle

This dog is kind and filled with love

I am sure

The drive home is scary

The road is covered deep in snow and ice

At least for the first hour and a half

At times I wonder if the car will slide off the road

Who would look for me?

Who actually knows where I am

The more south I go

The better the road gets

But it doesn’t answer my question

Who really knows where I am

Next day

Connecticut, mom, Brattleboro

I skip home

Head straight to see The Dog

I receive a call

One minute before I arrive at the pound

The Dog is out for a walk

Yes, I can stop by

I would have anyways

The Dog comes in

She has a name

Daisy

She is no longer The Dog

Daisy

She’s smaller than I thought

More beautiful now when I see her

Up close

She seems scared, wary, scarred

She won’t eat the biscuits I brought

At least not now, not here

She traveled from Bennington

Over mountains

She has been lost for 6 months

The next day I will get a photo

Of the tearful reunion

I should be happy

The family and she seem content

But I wonder how

What caused them to lose her

Or for her to leave

I am mixed with happiness,

Wary, questioning, distrustful

As vacations ends

The speed of time increases

I begin fixing things

Then breaking things as I fix them

Toilets

Chairs

Windows

Insulation is added

Maintenance

Exercise

And then begin the long march

Of goodbyes

To friends

To the woods

To these streams I love

I look at my collection of images

Find another and work on it

They are magic

I close the house down

Dial back the temperature

It is clean again

People will come and stay there soon

Next day

I leave so early in minus 12 degrees

Connecticut, mom, Boston

I am flying now

Half-way across the Atlantic

Writing and thinking of new adventures

There is nothing that truly fits me

Like my wife

I have several lives

And I manage each well

Leaving America

There is sadness

I love going

Hate leaving

It sounds so contradictory

Perhaps it has to do with

The fact

That I have been leading

Two different lives

All these years

For so very long

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