the red-shedding

swirl of hay dust in the air as we
heave heaps of mulch
pierced with the ends of our
pitchforks tossing the
dried strands onto garden cart

mahogany sauteeing ohio-found mitakes
on one burner while i reheat the
rice on the other

trish in south garden her gold
sequins shining which she put on
so they could work their mood-lifting magic


how we pause in front of the old panes
of glass in the east-facing cow barn loft windows
where the red-shedding
trees burn against blue sky and the edge
of the graveyard comes into view
and the chickadees flit from
tree to tree

she has introduced me
to my sorrow (which i think of as a pet
creature living inside me and how
this pet creature wants/deserves
to be seen) i say
across the baby collards bed
sun sinking gold light blurred
through hoop house plastic
she is teaching you sole responds

i just want everyone to be ok i say
edges of the collard leaves blurring
but my ok for them is perhaps sometimes
different than their ok for themselves
but i think people not killing people
(or land or animals, especially in the name of money)
is ok to want
for everyone and then i retell
joAnn and i in the graphics lab
and how we both care about the world
in the same ways and i was upset
about some military operation/budding war
and joAnn noted that there has always been/
always will be war and killing

i like you because you are
the you that you are i say
arguing for her, for all of us
to keep doing what
we do so well (being ourselves)

wherein i play bartender
at the butcher block
pouring shots of fire cider
while we toast to health
in spanish and polish

how sole and i sit on the floor and pass
brown glass bottles of essential oils
back and forth describing
the brightness or the
top notes or
the colors and arranging
various combinations

at the top of slater’s hill sole
points out a galaxy (cluster of lights)
while birdie perches on my
shoulder and a soft
glow like a distant city that isn’t there rises
from the northern horizon
through the trees

cricket’s snout propped sleepy against
window frame where she snore/grunts
which is perhaps actual snoring
or perhaps just grunting asking
to be let in

from the water world:
A man and snow-covered trees are reflected in the water, as he take a “selfie” photograph in Lake Louise, Alberta, Canada. – voice of america, day in photos


A youth jumps into the Indian Ocean at the water front of the historical Stone Town of Zanzibar, Tanzania.–  voice of america, day in photos


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