like flame licks

the plunk of green beans in
plastic 5-gallon buckets as tookie and i
work our ways up/down the south garden beds
_______
flat and light / dusty white and grays
of the tree frog perched in the white bucket
hanging on the rack it’s soft sticky toes
on my palm
and when it moves – revealing
the bright lichen-colored spots
where leg usually lays closed
against body
_______
moonstar the cat curled
in the crook of my arm as i write this
the whish of the inner kid in me who always wanted
the stuffed animals to come to life 
granted
_______
the milky way in moon night-sky
how i stand under it a while
to take it in while the new cool edge of autumn
licks at me like flame licks air
_______
from the water world:
c7770603-f159-42a3-a338-63c89eda7c54_w987_s_s
A friend’s basket of clams sit in the water as Mike Suprin, of Rollinsford, New Hampshire, calls it a day after filling his basket with soft shells at Cape Porpoise in Kennebunkport, Maine. – voice of america, day in photos

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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