unfold them

our job is not to mold them,
it’s to unfold them ami says
over speakerphone about raising kids
(but also about other relationships and projects)
while i transfer tiny tomato plants
into just-pressed soil blocks
the buzz of masses of flies gathered
on the clothesline and the log poles that hold
the lines up as i pin and unpin hot pink things
and gray thing sand teal things and green things
and yellow things and black things strung
above me

he was footaging emory says of his grandpa
taking video of him on the trampoline,
up in the tree and maybe playing
the trombone as well

a shower of indigo as emory tosses
a handful of wild violets
on top of the lentil salad
in the red-rimmed serving bowl
in the shine of sun on kitchen table

maybe it is the brilliance of the sun
burning through the cool on this clear day or
perhaps the new flower arrangement on the
table (three small light daffodils with bright centers
plus a branch sprig of pink blooms rocketing up
out of the vase)
or the pleasure of
chopped veggies set aside in various bowls
while i mix the spices (coriander,
nutmeg, cumin, cardamom, clove,
turmeric, cayenne, salt) in a kitchen
i know well
but there is this sense of smooth ease/contentment
even while racing the clock as the crackers
(variety one: wild garlic sun dried tomato pecan and coriander
variety two: walking onion sunflower and sesame seed)
bake on rotate in the oven at 425 degrees
i want nothing between it and me trish
says of the salt lamp that i scooch closer
towards her across the bedside table
it’s worse than i anticipated she says
slow, everything is slow
(movement, talk)

how we pass around photos of
pink/red/purple glistening
veiny insides of trish and her
so big is the report that they had to
extend the incision, and this is where
she’s feeling the pain
manure smell so strong
(we saw them spreading today emory says
of the neighbors down the road)
it drifts into my room through closed window

snipping an inch of sweetgrass
like i learned from watching harry
from the braid that came home
from taos with me
stay sat

emory calls out to jack (also known as
jack-jack, jackie and sometimes jackson too)

from the water world:

Pakistani villagers wade across a flooded road after heavy rain on the outskirts of Peshawar. Flash floods triggered by torrential rains killed dozens of people in northwest Pakistan, officials said.- voice of america, day in photos

Men collect their belongings from their makshift shop which was damaged by flood water after heavy rain on the outskirts of Peshawar, Pakistan. – voice of america, day in photos


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