aristotle was there

the tiny faerie house
em and i build
on the dirt ground
inside the fortsythia
i like how we
hang out and talk there in the tunnel of shade
before moving along
forks we call the forked branches
that are the main posts
of our faerie dwelling
_______

emory, curious and fascinated
with plenty of questions
about maverick and goose and ice man
and how goose died and who was fighting who

while he holds his lego copter/drone and
i tell him the plot (from what i can remember)
of top gun
_______
how i build color blocks
with the legos as emory
finagles with the drone/plane
and how we admire each others’ work
just after freestyling about
the grates and the finishers
(which are two types of lego pieces
he keeps filed away in his
plastic sorter container)

_______
so uh, what kind of take-out are you
ordering for lunch tyler jokes
about our ongoing joke of
being in cubicle town
(him in stan’s room working on organic
inspection reports and me at the living room table
punching/crunching numbers
for farm accounting for the past two months
_______
in about 5 minutes i say
about how long it took the 90-something degree swelter
to cool to 70something or maybe even the high 60s
when the cold front swooped in followed by
a short fury of a storm
_______

the green shapes of leaves
as seen from inside the greenhouse
where they are plastered on the opaque roof
after being ripped by storm winds
from their branches
_______
aristotle was there mom says
about the production
which is a play on grease
named greece lightning
_______

when i kick the bucket
you won’t have to do much digging
just a small hole dad says/jokes
about how a trowel will do
because he wants to be cremated
(or donate his body to research)

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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