still, there is enough light

compromised the word i use
for the current state of my immune system
and how i went on to run
down underpass to shake
any of the lodged/stagnant stuff up
_______

how we all raise our hands
not once but twice in favor of
trish getting a cat scan
not because we actually need to vote
but because we want trish to see
how supported she is in
taking care of herself/seeking answers
_______

small pile of pieces of apple rings
skin on
on the butcher block
sour-sweetness of last year
i savor while chopping red-skinned potatoes
skin shiny with wet from the dirt
just being washed off
_______

mica and i kitchen-dancing around
a sauce pan of melting butter and
two skillets on either side filled
with the shine of garbanzo beans coated in coconut oil
plus there are potatoes
roasting side by side with the
pan of peaches/cherries soon to become
sweet crisp
_______

it’s cas(ual) i joke
about how we circle up sitting
on front porch and how i didn’t
even set plates out
on the dining room table
_______
cynthia and i toasting our wine-filled shotglasses
they used to call me  contour queen she says
meaning by the time the beer level
was down to where the shape of the bottle
began its contour
she would already be tipsy
_____
post-sunset but still
there is enough light
to wander the orchard
with ashby (a shadow, a suggestion
of a cat) trotting at my side
not seen so much as heard in the crunching
of leaves/grass below his feet
_____

how we hush
on the front porch under
a cloud-veiled almost full moon
to hear the howling
which is not unusual for here
but somehow the quality of the sound
(perfectly hollywood haunted night)
and increasedness of the volume
are remarkable tonight
_______

flower friend june calls when we hug after i hand her
the farbric-wrapped bon voyage gift of
zinnia seeds (the fabric scrap being the same scrap
she wrapped her sunflower seed birthday gift to me
in on my fortieth)

_______

the saddest thing i say about the
totaling of the green car is the
loss of the ‘ask me about sorghum syrup
bumper sticker’
from which point we launch into

a million ask-me-about bumper sticker variations
ask me about harnesses
ask me about dingleberries
ask me about the fic trailer
ask me if we take credit cards

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s