back at the glow

in the dream
there were several
hikes back down
and one back up
it was deserty-mountainy
with prairie off to the side/past the ridge
creatures out there in herds
and on the last descent
i begin in the dark lacking headlamp
and am surprised to find myself
back at the glow of house
in no time
where we (i don’t know who) tea-make
and late night chat
tho none of us feel capable of reflecting
on our days

kitchen double-timer busted (or unbatteried)
i compensate with a watch
set for the pot on the left and
and wind-up timer
set for the pot on the right

one could call what i’m doing
in this kitchen (with the kale/collard leaves
and hot water bath and cold water bath)
processing greens
one could also call it
navigating the heartcave
(scanning words/events
reevaluating shared space/time
taking myself back to various theres
questioning my choices of choices and actions
seeking the clearest of clarities

all while my body is here)
punch of grief encountered
in unexpected places
for example: a glimpse in a video of two pals
beach-play piggy-back ride
(how piggy back was a favored
mode of transportation)

fish collisions with my feet and
nibbling on my side i
call out then laugh
in surprise
flashbacking to the boat-leaping carp
perhaps overstocked trish suggests

nina and i
me laughing all over the place
at her moving her mouth
exaggeratedly to imitate
a certain kind of american
(“howwww ahr yeeehw hohneeee?
whaht ahhhr yewhhh doohing?
whare ahhr yooouh frohhm?”)

2015, year of  let’s not talk about:
the wheat
the dent corn
the pintos
the tomatoes and cukes
(though summer squash is ample and therefore safe territory)

like when a kid hits their friend
and then is schocked/surprised
by their friend expressing the hurt/pain
i say to trish the unexpectedness

as if some sequinning
has been shaved off
akin to amputation
a shine no longer


sunset silhouette of two kittens
wrestling atop
clothesline pole perch


tumbling around in a
sea of grief i say wondering
when is it prematurely quitting/giving up
and when is it making a really tough
but caring/loving/best for both of us choice
to leave

two small frogs perched
on bottom pane
hunting all the small bugs
drawn to loft window light