accompanied by two irrefutable glows

how daylight reveals the
leanings (sunflowers, strawflowers) and
busted limbs
(splintered oak on slater’s hill,
wind-ripped branches
tossed into spearmint patch,
and around the curves of
the back road)
_______
joseph and i inspecting
the backpack sprayer
and its part chart
in the bright bright of
almost-still-solstice
afternoon light
_______

what would the kid whisperer do
i ask myself and then tell emory
that i bet i can finish my lunch
before you can
which, kindof incredibly to most of us,
works (me dramatically spooning the
tiniest bits of dal with a fork while
emory snarfs his array of
entrees)
_______
like a visitation
i say

about both animal encounters
and dreams
_______

sparkle-o-meter i call it
and identify where my
current composition lies
along the spectrum of
super sparkly, shiny, and

a clump of dust without even
a single speck of glitter in it
_______
sorry
stan says i just

got distracted by
the first baltimore oriole
of the season
_______

trish offers a sampling of
mini m&ms power pellets i call them
followed by a two-square break off
baigz’s chocolate offering
_______
chiffonading kale at the butcher block
while listening to this segment about listening
which moves me in a million moments
including the following:
i made many radio documentaries working to shine a light on people who were rarely heard form in the media. over and over again i’d see how the simple act of being interviewed could mean so much to people, particularly those who’d been told that their stories didn’t matter. i could literally see people’s backs straighten as they started to speak into the microphone. in 1998 i made a doc about the last flophouse hotels on the bowery in manhattan – guys stayed up in these cheap hotels for decades. they lived in cubicles the size of prison cells covered with chicken wire so you couldn’t jump from one room into the next. later on i wrote a book on the men with the photographer harvey wang,. i remember walking into a flophouse with an early version of the book and showing one of the guys his page. he stood there staring at it in silence. then he grabbed the book out of my hand and started running down the long narrow hallway shouting: i exist!!!! i exist.
(we don’t think about listening as a profound act of respect – like, really giving somebody dignity, or – a gift, especially people who are not listened to or not heard from. we all have the capacity to listen in this way.)
_______
pulling a darien as i
choose to hand-grate carrots for
the gigantor salad rather than
send them through the food processor
because i prefer the quality of
hand-grated to the
mush of machine-grated
_______
sandhill band sounds
(voices, drum, banjoe, guitars, tambourine)
drifting from porch into kitchen
i sing along
_______

the sunset half moon
a cray pas smudge
accompanied by two
irrefutable glows –
venus and jupiter
(your face i say
could complete this
constellation)
_______

from the water world:
FBD42FF9-811B-4CDF-9C66-6A922FC9FA45_w974_n_s
Armenian police use water canons to disperse protesters demonstrating against an increase in electricity prices in the Armenian capital of Yerevan. – voice of america, day in photos

EE72BBB4-7772-4D31-9AB4-75DAA2CC6A65_w974_n_s
A woman looks out from a bridge toward garbage that was washed down by the rising Negro river, one of the two main branches of the Amazon River, following heavy rains in Manaus, Amazonas state, Brazil. – voice of america, day in photos

E3541815-0BBF-4D41-8C3E-34E2E0EC5CDE_w974_n_s
A Sadhu or Hindu holy man performs yoga on the steps of Saubhagya Kund, a holy pond, at the Kamakhya temple in Gauhati, India. – voice of america, day in photos

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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