katia mitova | leap year

I open the wax-sealed envelope: a day of summer towards the end of a long winter. Father and I on a yellow tandem. We pedal quickly but are not moving. I like this. My brother in the garden, still a baby, crawling toward a blue-green caterpillar, never reaching it. A tawny puppy perpetually chasing its tail. My mother on the porch, at her sewing machine. She is hemming a length of white cotton – without thread, without making any noise. We are happy. Suddenly – a buzz. An invisible bee hitting a window pane. Am I the only one who hears it? I jump off the bike and follow the noise. It leads me to the window of my room. The pane is all iced save for a small opening scratched by the bee. I look through this peephole: inside, winter continues. I step back, slowly fold the day, put it back in the envelope, moisten the glue on the flap with my tongue and seal Being & Becoming together.
From Dream Diary (Virtual Artists Collective, 2013).
Katia Mitova was born and raised in Sofia, Bulgaria. In 1993 she moved to Chicago and stayed. This is an orally-enhanced version of a poem about her now almost mythological Bulgarian childhood. Check http://katiamitova.org.
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