let me break like the day

best yet i tell ty
in regards to the stacks of pancakes on a plate
on the butcher block
the hum of stan’s air conditioner
as i walk past his window
with leftovers to put
in the walk in
balanced in my arms
it’s difficult he says
all the way over there in vermont
so many of us ghost from the process
being in your length is being with your dignity/in your integrity
and later i say length!
i can’t believe we haven’t talked about length yet
til now

tufts of fur drifting
through the car
in the exam room,
the irritant of
one or two of them landing in my mouth and
several more on my face
the way moonstar (the cat) curls into me

on the stainless steel table, purring
even when there is a thermometer in her butt,
even after she just took two injections in her hind quarters,
even after the terrifying car ride that made her shake
uncontrollably in her bones
makes me think something about trust
something about the desire for closeness
and connection even when
she is in instances of pain and panic
that i brought her to
she still comes to me
and this breaks my heart
wide open to her
ripe red pulsing
of the next batch of strawberries
tucked in amongst
green leaves and runners
emory leaning into the cauliflower bed to

show me one of the plants heading up as i
coat the brassica beds in south garden
with a fine mist of BT
singing as the BT sloshes in the sprayer

while i work my way up/down the final beds of brassicas
(cabbage, whose leaves are huge and beautiful which also means
it takes a long time to spray each one)
how the song makes the work
when irise
let me rise
like a bird
with no regrets
when i fall
let me fall
like a leaf
with no regrets
when i roll
let me roll
like a stream
along the rocks
when i break
let me break
like a day
across the land
when i rest
let me rest
like the sun
sinking as it sets
(some lyrics i have inherited and some

i make up while the sun
makes its way through tree branches
golden and lowering)
you might recall my night-owlish tendencies
i write when asked from the west coast

what i’m doing up so late
hold your palm up
like a mirror and say
this is mine then flip it and say
that’s yours corinne shares
one small glimmer from
her years in witch school
after i tease her about
a wedding dress made of oats
from the water world:
The feet of the Zouave statue on the Pont de l’Alma are covered by the rising waters from the Seine River after days of rainy weather in Paris, France as the Zouave statue is considered an indicator of the level of the Seine, when his feet are under water, emergency flood precautions are taken.  – voice of america, day in photos


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