going feral

the pinwheeling leaf in the wind suspended
by a spider web how it whirls when
the breeze picks up 
and the small frisbee-sweaty crowd that gathers to watch on the way to the pond
the tiniest persimmon
peach pink almost transluscent
dropped onto my porch looking like someone
placed it there as a way of saying
welcome home or
i like you or
a gift to give in celebration of abundance
loudspeaker blare at the rutledge fall festival as the mc announces
the shoe-flinging contest, the egg-carry, the balloon toss
and how sometimes we try to talk over it
and sometimes we don’t
under a walnut tree cynthia and me
with our tailgate crunch (rice crackers and sesame sticks)
munching and watching how gravity keeps the exceptionally enthusiastic kids
pressed to their seats as they pump back/forth on the swing/teeter totter sort of thing
while we trade tattoo stories
which i’m surprised, after these years, neither of us has heard from the other before

maybe it is the warm temperature of the day
or the clutter piling up on all kitchen surfaces
but it is an absolute stillness
so i flick on the fan
which helps a bit

going feral trish says about moonstar the cat
hanging around in the lumber bays
down at the horse barn
mica  gesturing with a semi-automatic-looking nerf gun
(white and blue and neon orange)
on the kitchen couch