De Journey to My Solstice

Imprecise memories mingle.

It is not obvious in my days 
what I tangle in my mind.

Fallible in skips, voids, 
misplaced in thought and keys

at midlife, still searching for luck .

Four-leaf clovers occupied my imagination

more than Barbie or Jesus. 

Suspecting luck, the kissing cousin of fate,

would - could - should hobnob;

leapfrogging me over necessity 

into a tyranny of urgent, of possible

with Art. Fractal Gobbled-y-gook:

What does one do with luck?  Get a snowflake’s

destiny! Help it along. Add a regal “de”

before the family name.

Vittorio de Sica, our acquaintance made 
in caressed pages of a shelf-long encyclopedic

book by wide-eyed ogling, me. Our name 
in local marquee lights. Comedic. The world 
is on show. ‘Divorce Italian Style’. A matinee. 
A man, nothing to do, nowhere to go. Fate’s 
finite area rhythmically repeats. Irony 
in cinematic modes of vision, unerring.

Serendipity, makes both true: choice and 
chance. I marvel. A celluloid masterpiece, 
directed by an infinitely distant cousin. Awake
from Winter an invisible Summer, an uncertain
man and his dog story, Umberto D (and Flike)

a disillusioned optimist’s real legacy.

My last triad, taking stock again of leaves:  
embracing the darkness of My Solstice and nature 
like a poet with cautions to heed: not to arrive 
with Blue Jay beggary I fold into the dark 
with thickened fur, to cherish the world and people
as they are, with all their failings, and faint
tender connections to the beauty of being. Space 
lurks in the tilted balance of my body clock,  

between same old things in infinite perimeter. 

Copious clover with three leaves belie the fact
that Life is truly a factor of four. 

By Adele Houston Week One and Two of 2017

The Writing Prompt: Use concepts of Transition, Solstice, New Adventure, Hero’s Journey, or other concept of change relating to endings and beginnings. Relate it to yourself, our world, religion, politics, or other situation that feels right. NOTE: Maiden name S.A.Sica