awesome hairdos

almost just out of reach but not quite: the black locust blossoms (one of my favorite smells
of all season) dangling near the privvy walkway
how i lean and steady and lean and reach until i have two clumps in my hand
that i pin to my updo
(which is very little ‘up’ or ‘do’ since i have not such an abundance of hair)
and then later
i collect the clumps and bunches off the ground
where the wind and rian has thrown them
within reach
______
interesting shapes  i say
about the loaves of bread
coming out of the oven just before emory says the same thing, only in his own way:
they have awesome hairdos
_______

dark blue/gray approaching from the west
and then rumbles and then some lightning
and then the front of cool wind
that carries the storm in its wake
is upon us
and though i didn’t get the edamame planted today
i did just transplant a bunch of
good looking sunflower starts
_______
.9 inches the rain guage reads
after the storm that swiftly swpt through
for an hour and a half or so
_______

the mother’s day bouquet that cynthia picks/arranges for tylers mom:
some of the first peonies
some of the last irises
plus sweet williams
bursting with color and volume
_______
the first thought that comes in during the first moments of closed-eye sitting silence:
today, it’s hard to be in this body
(emphasis on ‘today’ – and not: it’s dificult to keep myself in this body, but the act of being in this body today in that very moment
is sad and hard)

_______
the unnerving tiny and only very occasional sounds
coming from somewhere in the woodstack
housed in the woodstack cubby
(which i have not yet made a door for, but hope to)
in my room
_______

moon showing partway through the clouds as they pass/cross
and the screechy sounds of what i think are raccoons, but don’t sound entirely like raccoons but i can’t imagine what else they would be
_______
the perfectly spooky shadows cast onto cedarwood wall
when a spider (and later a carpenter ant)
walks across an xmass light bulb

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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