you would know this

between brassica-weeding and lunch bell,
twenty minutes of yoga with jason
neglected mat rolled out
body uncoiling

_______

lunch on the porch
emory leaning into my knee asks
how many cookies
(tylers GF nut butter w/ chocolate chips)
i took and then whispers
with raised eyebrows i ate three

_______

paper pot tutorial in upstairs karma
as the onslaught of rain
blurs window-vision
(nothing but green [grass, tree buds] and gray [wall of rain])
augmented by hail and
leaks spouting along the central beam

_______

those are gerunds trish says
computer print-outs before us
we decipher past from present
for the final pages of her
st. louis zine

_______

between brassica reading and dinner bell
ten minutes of reading
loft-perched
angela davis’s autobiography in my hands

_______

if you could see the view from here
you would know this:
late light (almost setting but not quite)
illuminating the rolling-hill valley (branch of the fabius river)
how water glints back (field puddles, perhaps creeks)
and all that light passing through spring growth
in rays from the edge of a stormcloud
as if someone plugged the trees in
their green illuminated

_______

down along the rock road curves
hank hunts two prizes:
1: a deer skull from the goode’s land, antlers intact
2: a flat/leathered/rotted raccoon

_______

darien, mica and i reach down and do the chigger rub
to squash any tiny bugs that might have
crawled up onto our ankles/calves
after exploring the fallen in root cellar/bomb shelter
and checking out the shed-stored combine

_______

the goode’s cows
moving with us along the fenceline
as sun sinks
something about the thunder they make
when they pick up speed moving as a group
(mob mentality)

for a while it’s just us and them standing staring
(us: three humans, two dogs – one which looks like a mini cow
and is especially captivating to the herd
them: at least 300 cows, not full grown but not baby-babys
perhaps a half a year old
perhaps two years old)
us, greeted with the sound of their breathing
after bounding alongside us
soft and steady magic/soothing

we notice the boldness of the one ear-tagged #253
(how she follows close to the fence)
she should have a name i say about her
#253, sounds like an ayn rand character
says darien
ayn rand it is

_______

mica on ground level (bed)
while i perch in the loft (makeshift bed)
head hanging over
we talk this way for a while
granola the cat migrates up/down
the stairs between us

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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