For our 41st Anniversary

Dearest princess
of the calendered duvet,
(who pulled me down
beside her braids
with the smallest touch of lips
and a whispered wish:
“But only this,”
and when
I nodded yes,
kissed me again),
let us, waking in
the same Swiss chambray,
conspire always
with the sureness
of that first kiss
so long ago today.

June 12th, 2021
Kailua

Explanation

Calendered fabric is wrung through hot rolling pins which resemble rolled-up medieval manuscripts and calendars of the year. Both film and player piano rolls took on the same protective round shape. The word comes from Greek kylindros, or cylinder.

In China, rocks ground paper in a bowl, similar to a mortar and pestle grinding set for bread, seeds, and spices.

Calendering makes textiles smooth and fine, such as Chambray, batiste, or cambric, producing lightly woven and lightweight blue cotton or linen. Blue jean shirts and elegant sheets can be made of it.

Chambray was made in Combray, the town of Proust’s childhood featured in the first book of La recherche.

Calendering can also be done to paper, plastics, silks and even lithium-ion batteries.

The monthly calendar comes from the calends, the first day of the Roman month when debts were shouted out, as in the Latin verb calare, to shout. The Church applied the word to its list of saints and saint days, which became the modern calendarium, or calendar.

The sheets in my dream were blue muslin or cambric. The dream was about loving someone forever, and it just happened to be on calendered sheets. Like the bark of a tree, sheets are peeled off beds like skin off of onions; the past is documented in their layers, like rock strata or tree rings.

As I was dreaming of my princess, Cathy was leaving me a note that starts, “Prince of all Saturdays . . .” Her clever notes are like William Carlos Williams’s “refrigerator poems” to his wife.