because i’ve begun

like home,

the day here begins with harvest

this time climbing a ladder to pluck cherries gone red to black

dangling

_______

because i’ve begun a serious love affair

with the sound of the creek running i say to logan

about sleeping on the forest floor at the farm

rather than in the field of tents and cars at the fair

_______

amongst the dusty paths

a crew of people dressed up as different tetris shapes

dancing until they line up in formation

while some serious badass drummer

makes the rhythm and the beats and how we

the onlookers

cannot help but cheer

when they line all their shapes up

into a solid block

_______

the doppleganger

whose name is noodles

and i standing shoulder to shoulder

for a photo in the goldening sun

there must be a name for this

(meeting a doppleganger – of which i hear i have many, but i’m usually not in the place that they have been sighted and so i usually never get to see/meet them)

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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