is an old book I found at a rummage sale.
I mailed it to Mom and she mailed it back.
She liked the book and the articles someone had clipped from the
Burlington Free press of the sixties.
In the paper articles, Jacques Cousteau was looking for Atlantis.
Just like my Mom.
Jacques was like a member of the family,
TV of the sixties...
that meant we watched his show
whenever he was on. Loved his French accent.
Curious was reading about the theory that there was No Atlantis....
Could Atlantis have been only a fancy tale spun from men looking to explain
a utopian paradise so perfect that the earth swallowed it whole leaving not a trace?
And would Mom be relieved that perfection is Not possible,
and Atlantis is not the be all and end all.
That common daily living raising 7 children is the ultimate challenge.
Yesterday I thought about Noah's ark, seeing 2 swallows yesterday, 2 geese, then 8 vultures.
2 by 2, flying home to our backyard.
The swallows I saw were relieved their home was still here.(I swear they chattered "thanks")
Grey and broken boards,
it is their home, their