over the blue

7am, the clack of the slow-turning mill wheels
(mighty steel)
starting up as
riley and i wrestle tangled cane
From the wagon to lift up into the great weighty rollers
that press out the juice
same shit, different day tyler jokes
setting up every detail
of the pressing
_______

the glimmer of geode innards
tossing sunlight back at me as i step into
my room, late afternoon
_______
unwrapping the purple hankey pouch of edamame germination tests
at the end of the day
(of two days carrying the sproutlings in my hoodie pocket by day and tucking them under the covers with me by night) to discover the results
(spotted: 100%
green: 80%
yellow: 100%)
[note: results not final as
barely perceptible tiny tails might be emerging
from the green and spotted seeds
as i write]
_______
the fat groundhog
emory spots up on its hind legs
on the hill and under the great oaks
on the neighbors land

_______
the thinnest sliver of moon
sharp bright curves smudged by
overlay of slow and transparent clouds
_______

emory roasting marshmellows with a stick
which is more like a small limb of a tree rather than a thin branch
in the kitchen over the blue burner flame
_______

three moments this week that joy was with you she asks and of course
one of the answers is
the sky

________
from the water world:


Migrants wait to be rescued as they drift in the Mediterranean Sea some 20 nautical miles north off the coast of Libya.

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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