slow and light

massacre i call it
because that’s what it is…
my reckless killing of at least 50 ants on the floor
some i squish with a tissue
some i crush under my shoe and some
i press hard into the wood with my bare fingers
_______
sia on the playlist and 
peach strawberry crisp in the oven and
toasted seeds version 2.0 in the bowl with the serving spoon
and the potatoes about to finish roasting
to set alongside the just-roasted asparagus and all with a ltitle chimichurri
to top it off
_______
the frog walking along
the bottom edge of the other side of the kitchen sink window screen
as i wash the last of the dinner dishes
how i cannot help but but my finger
where it’s three-toed foot is
and how it moves its toes
slow and slight
_______
watching the entire world (of growing things with stalks or trunks) bend
heavy with spring green
in the unweildy winds
that make walking the short path through the woods seem like
a bad but necessary thing
_______

the thin carpet
of white petals
pulled down by today’s ferocious winds
onto the bright green of all
the foresty undergrowth
_______
from the water (less) world:

An Indian man walks over the parched bed of a reservoir on the outskirts of Chennai – voice of america, day in photos

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, process, writing

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