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Ruth Marie Tomlinson

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here  |  there

Seattle reaches up from between mountain and sea. Two Dot stretches out on a long horizon between sky and field. My year is split between the two; here becoming there becoming here becoming there again. These pages explore both locations from my current vantage point.

2019 holds a sabbatical from teaching. It is a gift, an extended semi-colon between before and after, with time enough to tolerate the lines I have drawn to blur.


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sixth week: Seattle

February 18, 2019

On a recent morning, while laying very still, I heard my old cat’s regular snoring and was momentarily confused as to whether the sound came from her or from me. She sleeps most of the day and I’ve grown accustom to the faint wheezing of air through old nostrils while I wrestle with words at the computer. We’ve grown old together, my cat and me, she accelerating at a faster pace. I was nearly 50 when she was a kitten, but now I think she might be beginning to pass me up. The arthritic limp I see as she walks across the room is not so pronounced in me. But for just a moment, we seemed to be nearly even keel and I was uncertain who the wheezing came from.

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