opening in bloom

the opposite of scarcity i write
to accompany the photo of
the first of the peonies and the
last of the irises
opening in bloom together
_______
plucking collards to a new thinness of
one t0 three inches apart
while cycling through most
of the songs i know by heart
which means it’s a tori amos/oscar isaac/
joana newsome/community song circle mashup
_______
how it hits me as i
deep green plastic watering can into
rain catchment barrels
(the whoose of water moving in,
air zooming out)
that i/we are really doing this
(sometimes called non-monogamy)

and that i never thought
doing this could be
so grounded and
panic-free
_______
taking long deep pulls
of spearmint water
(the lightness, the hintyness of mint)
from my banged up metal water bottle
under the afternoon sun
_______
trish and i pedaling/rolling
up/down the gravel hills
side by side dodging potholes and moving through the
cool patches of shade into
bright swaths of sun laid out before us
_______
the ripples of purple
in bloom along the dancing rabbit row of mailboxes
how alline says i must go smell them,
that it’s like grape kool-aid and
sure enough
sweet and fake-grape like (with a little extra floral)
it is
which means i can’t resist plucking one
to take with me
but not before i hold it under
trish’s and wily’s noses
_______
the sweet leaving of several
plastic pots of sedums
at my door a la cynthia and tyler
_______
mom and dad on the other end of the phone
how i keep the lights off
so i can watch/follow
the arc of the almost-full moon
as the patch of light moves over me

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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