the long legs of the distance animal

every day it’s a gettin closer
going faster than a roller coaster
weeds like these will
surely go away
i sing in the asparagus patch
that the crew of us works our way through
pulling weeds (sometimes taller than us)
that, when piled together
tower at at least 7 feet
we work our way
down the edamame plucking
only the plump-beaned pods
and leaving the rest
and then up/down the look far tomato weeds and then
up/down the brassica leaves
all the while trading updates
of people and place

the reaching leaves of the okra
touching/brushing my back as
i crouch under to lean in
to the parsley i cut
with my favorite knife
whose blade curves
like a J
sadness is a gift
mo says to closeness
as i lean into it
which i follow by naming trees:
american persimmon
siberian elm
red maple

the long legs of the
distance animal mo drew
on a white piece of paper that she
gifts me
style! we keep calling
on the b-ball court (also known as a
gravel driveway)
while incorporating things like
elbows and handstands and moonwalking
into our technique

the parchment/gold glow
of the almost-half-moon
reflected on the clear plexiglass
of the baskbetball hoop backboard

the braided rope (hammock) marks pressed
into liana’s shoulder blades
and the back of sancho’s upper arms

the un-funny jokes we read
around the butcher block from
emory’s pinata-score candy (laffy taffy)
the single leaf of sage
whose edge glows red
and whose smoke i weave around
the cards
my body
(including bottoms of bare feet)
the doorway


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