woven with green

the sound of big white chunks of salt
hitting a paper plate
as i rub them off before ripping soft pretzel pieces apart
and dipping them in the small plastic ramiken of ‘cheese’
a throwback to my work breaks
in the kmart eatery
the wild edge of sorrow
 sharon says as we walk the mown path
past the old homestead
whose main feature at this point
is the metal windmill woven with green leafy vines that climb up
and back down again
it’s beautiful  i say from the bench
alongside dennis’s grave
where sharon and i sit
sometimes holding hands
the rituals you have chosen
you are showing us
how to do this

the great golden and slightly pink light
(which makes me think of that rose gold jewelry)
showing in the west
while a sprinkle of rain pitter pats down
which registers as the recipe for rainbows and sure enough,
visible through a clearing in the canopy down by the sugar shack
just a part of the arc showing through
roygbiv in full effect


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