sometimes tendriling / drink the storm

two beds, eight rows we
drop tender tiny onion starts
(sometimes tendriling)
and press into soil
_______
whine and whir of wind turbines
as we rise
pedaling over the final hill to
dancing rabbit through the
northwind turbulence

_______

even if there was no defense
mica says of playing frisbee
in this gusty gusty wind
we’d still have a hard time
scoring a point

_______

we pass the chocolate around
the bean bag semi-circle
arranged around hoophouse
naked body-lovin slideshow
adoring stretchmarks, range of shapes
and ridiculous face-making

_______

i sit-upped on my mat
all over the office i say
after our 85 situps and
before our 130 crunches,
52 leg lifts and 120 seconds
of plank
all during which i discover/am reminded
of the power of breath
and how it gets me through
_______

we’re gonna drink the storm
we’re gonna drink the storm
we improv sing-dance
as our pre-dinner song
anticipating the night rains
that will gather in the
gutter-set-up, dirty water vaccuumed-out
last years project seeing itself through
to this years’ completion
cistern
_______
we’ve had this conversation before
tyler says under sunset glow
regarding our discussions of
moonrise times and sizes
_______

like a glob of fuschia-ish ink
smeared against purple-gray-blue sky
what remains of today’s light

_______

front porch couch perched blanket burritoed
while breezing swiftly drifts
across front porch
patches of chorus frogs and spring peepers
singing plus an unidentified
higher pitched chattering
_______
glow of pink-warmed skin
under sweater while
cooling pre-storm air
swirls around calling the
thunder in

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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