sticking around

when was it she asks
in the late light
that you decided to stick around
and i say something about how
i never declared or decided
it’s just that i made it through the part
of not wanting to be here
and so i declare outloud
leaning in
i, franciszka voeltz, on this eighth of september 2017, hereby declare my decision
to stick around

heading steadily towards

a word that starts with l
for the little door opening and closing
spoken in the waking time
of gold gridded light patches landing
on curves of shoulder, face, neck
_______
not certain exactly how it is
that there is still such a thing as people
denying climate change when here we are
in missouri,
fire moving in from the west and the winds and rain and swept up sea moving in 
from the east
(and a friend posts a photo of me today
from a hike two years ago
moving through the shiny [with wetness] green
that has just been swept through
by the fury of heat and flame)
_______
the condition of too-muchness we talk
about the man who, despite his choice to live in the smaller space of a trailer,
owns three sheds packed with multiple lawn mowers and other multiples of unnecessary-for-the-situation things
_______

mica and i passing back the pint jar
of apple sauce that she processed
earlier this week
in the afternoon brightness
of her greenhouse/porch
_______

the ring that jenafr wears
to keep her feeling close
to those facing the advancing winds/rains/thrashings
of the strongest hurricane ever recorded
heading steadily towards
her people
_______

snack plate arranged and delivered
to the whirring clacking novel factory:
two selections of round things (cucumber slices and rice crackers)
and oen of rectangular things (cheddar cheese sliced)