The Space(s) Between

I've been reading through some of my old journals.  This is a selection from Wednesday 13 February, 1991.

"'The Incas of the 14th century in Peru used a device called a "Quipu" (pronounced Kee-poo).  The Quipu was used by runners who carried mesages from village to village concerning the trade of livestock, good, birth, deaths, and other such information.  This device was simply a colored length of rope with a series of knots in it.  Each knot, depending on its shape and position along the rope, enabled the runner to recall informationi such as who sent the messages, the subject of the message, and the number of items involved.'

------

And here's the knot of love, dyed
red with the color of first passion.

------

Quipu

The messengers assemble on the porch
and blush briefly.  Some are sweating
like a horse having just run a Pony Express route,
others are quite, stifling some smiles
they will use at the appropriate moment
in the future after they have made a face
go white or red - the color of recognition.

They all read the colors.

The ropes, you see, it's all in the ropes.
Here, let me show you.
This one, the yellow - this means
it's Thursday, a child
was born on Tuesday, next door
a death on Wednesday
of an old one, female, the child
was female, too, see the knots touch,
and all are fine and healthy.

------

The muscle of wheat ripples in wind.

For every crow in the yard there is a cavern in the heart of a loved one.

------

Our history.
Light poles up and down the street - Kansas'
state tree - measure a kiss we share.  Tongues speak
of later.  I drive, one eye arched to the periphery." 

I find little more satisfying than writing in my journal each day.