a kestrel we guess

ass on the floor/ass in the air
is how we close our
mini morning garden meeting
which is kindof like a version
of hi-fiving after a frisbee game

first chorus frogs
in the general direction of

did you plant anything today june asks
at the backyard picnic table
while we lunch-feast
all the brassicas i respond
eleven flats

maybe a kestrel
we guess
regarding the small hawk
that flew into the greenhouse
and out onto a branch overlooking
the chicken coop
and whoever says chickens are stupid
should have been there to hear the flock
all acluck, reacting

hazefilled house from
two-pan tofu frying and
mutli-phase stirfry done up
in small wok
banjo and fiddle sounds
carried on dusk airplus the sound of the basketball
thudding on gravel

sunset walk pink
featherwhisps swished

music sounds muffling
through room-shared wall


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