as if someone synchronized the landscape

in the dream i was
on an ocean hangout
(rental cabin) with at least a couple
who were sortof self-involved
(understandably – par for
the ocean hangout/getaway course)
i left the house/cabin and encountered a
woman carrying a palm-sized basket of
hand-carved (wood) rings
her face somewhat reminiscent of
the faces of women in
the ecuadorian andes
we eye-connect/smile and
she hands me a ring and
tells me to take it
a rhinoceros/antelope-shaped ring that fits on two fingers
though it’s part of a magical pair and
she’s trying to sell her handamde goodness and i say no thanks
but then later search her out
to purchase the complementary
at a convention where she’s about to receive an award

a heat that hits
surprisingly early in the day
and a humidity that turns the impact
into a wallop
but then there’s this wild breeze
turning the almost-blooming sunflowers
heads back and forth and back
set to sway
this breeze that causes the whole
limb lift-fall as if someone
the landscape

a name for the leg muscles that
no matter how much garden/field work i do
they never seem to quite get it
that we’ll be staying here
(bent over to reach into earth)
workin’ this work for a while

although often frustrating
i love how landscape interferes
(i’m approaching the canyon
[cutoff canyon, i’ve been known to refer to it as]
she says on her way to el rio
so if i lose you…
if you do lose me, have a fabulous adventure
i reply before the canyon slices her voice

into thin and then fading pieces)
katniss mica refers to
birdie catwell the third
everdeen i reply

stowing away in loft
after lunch and before dinner prep
to pull thread through
push-pin-poked holes
lovingly binding each hot-pink chapbook
in descending order

punching the tenderest of kale leaves
(first harvest of the season!)
in stainless steel bowl
like an ever-changing painting baigz
says of the sky-set
under which we perch
on gravel in awe

lightning hunting i
stare at the same spot of
thickening sky with camera
ready to shoot

lightning bugs on our
walk back
the kind that light as they rise
mica says
the kind that all light up at once
i say
taking in the green-gold dots of glow


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