small jar of apricot jam
made from the fruits of our tree
contents glowing orangesweet and
quickly disappearing into morning


in grad school, the victories were never clear
i write on thin blue paper
soon to be folded and addressed to san diego


red cardinal
perched on electric line
across the way


stillness textured by
the trickledrip sound
after the rain has passed
of water at the gutter-rigged catchment
outside the greenhouse


trish sets the water to boil
doles out the dried peppermint
for althea’s aching stomach


for dinner (chopped and slow cooked and
spiced and mixed by my hands)
veggie masala (with cabbage, carrots and potatoes
plus garbanzos on the side)
cucumber raita
salad and lemon tahini dressing
prepared to sounds from the
quietwarm softslow soundtrack
including but not limited to
antony and the johnsons
fever ray
blonde redhead
otis redding
yann tiersen
with a one-song interruption
so emory can show his michael jackson moves
to the visitors


you can really taste the sweet
tyler says
of the guests’ water kefir
that makes a celebratory pop
when we open the bottles
orange lemon flavor

what should the title be mica asks
let’s get ripped i respond
(which reminds me of liz
and our adventures to the gym
in that place that both of us have probably
mostly tried to erase from our memories)
and so it is
a triathalon training calendar
where purple = run
blue = swim
and green = bike


mica’s frog sounds
echoing back from the
freshly filled pit
at the cistern site


fog so thick on sunset walk
the bugs must mistake it for rain
because nary a one lands on me
or buzzes in my face
or bites me
the entire way there or back





darien and i
approach, pass each other and recede
on the back road
under a fog shroud
slightly pinked
flanked by the glow of all the greens


from the water world:

A Hindu devotee takes a dip as she collects holy water from the Bagmati river during the Bol Bom pilgrimage in Sundarijaal on the outskirts of Katmandu, Nepal.
Picture: Niranjan Shrestha/AP – telegraph


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