For this month’s blog my wife, the poet Kimberly Esslinger, and I have written a joint poem—
Walking in Moonlight Before the Pandemic
and what is done to the least of these….
Where is the god of woman. Of cats. Of dead cats?
Of wives. Of midnight walks with dogs and the normalcy of silence.
And day becoming more like night in this stillness. All the crowded spaces. Open.
Empty. A bag floats down at night. A grocery bag. Onto the hood of a
speeding hatchback. Not a bag. But now a cat. Someone’s cat. Dead.
Just like that. A hatchback. And yes, here I was, with my dogs, wanting to believe
it was alive. I start to call her, she. Did she just move? Did you see her move?
My wife has gloves. A box. A plan. But I push her away.
I believe in god. And she could heal this cat.
She would. She would if I would wait long enough. Continue reading “Walking in Moonlight Before the Pandemic by Marie Cartier and Kimberly Esslinger”
Feminism and Religion 