in the dimming

shades of green and orange and brown
woven into each other 
friendship bracelets serving as badges
and taped to a note from headquarters
that says we are proud
of your rookie siberian elm trim job of the year

_______
mildew remediation i explain to trish
the sequin and lingerie selection
pinned to the line
_______
about-to-blow-boys emory calls the hornworms
(that we plucked from lookfar plants)
so rotund they look like they are
about to explode at any moment
_______
wherein i decide to give up
on the munched tomatillos
because the labor in and the harvest out
is an equation that is difficult to get behind
_______
emory re-teaching me
what i learned so long ago…
where to cast and when to release
and how when the bobber goes deep under,
to pull hard
_______
ted in the end zone
as we all watch the comical fumble
that involves at least 5 points/instances of contact
and i don’t even know what it is
about a good fumble like that
(which ted is the best at)
but it makes me laugh
even hours later when replaying it in my head
_______

ashby the cat trotting behind
and sometimes alongside me
in the dimming of the day’s last light
_______

thin slice of moon sliver
aglow and heading horizonwards
not long after the sun has just
tucked itself into the edge where
sky meets earth

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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