from their young branches

the bee that lands on the apple i’m eating
that i respond to by saying
hey, that’s my apple!
all while watering the fruit trees in pots
some leaning from the great winds,
some dangling the rubies of apples from their young branches

the imaginary pony

a trail of heart confetti
in primary-ish colors
written with wishes
for a brilliant forty six-and-a-half ninth birthday
the zuchinni muffins
rising slowly
in the oven set at
375 degrees
how we both cringe and lift our hands to our faces
when the heavy horseshoe lofts right over the sidewalk
and ting tang clink clunk clanks
on the pavement
the imaginary pony
that jennifer trots on
to retrieve and deliver
the tossed horseshoes
like a tennis ball fetcher
at wimbledon
minus the imaginary horse

us blinking on our way home
as we pedal
down the hill then up
the long stretch of incline of +270 feet

the placeness of here

the blessed quiet
of highway 14
due to road closures ahead
caused by flooding caused by
river rising caused by
spillway breaches caused by
6 inches of rain in one night
which is terrible
but it also means that for one day
my bicycle and i are not relegated
to the gravel shoulder
in order to get to work and back
which also means
i get to hear the leaves dangling from trees as they flitter flutter in the wind
and i get to hear the water still moving through the ditches
and i get to hear the rustle in the ground as some creature scuttles in underbrush
and i get to look down the road
and up into sky and
feel the placeness of here
if you come back next year
i’ll get you a

dave the boss says
about me returning
can it be pink i ask
with sparkles?

continues to rise

in the morning (in a non-rain window) we make a pilgrimage to the creek
where fog hovers above
to see how it rose, to watch how fast it moves
we slowly lower ourselves down towards its surprisingly
clear and low but fast water
walking, sandaled, through its great cold
though i write from a high dry ridge
(well, still wet, but the water moves away)
these are the photos posted by others
within a 50 mile radius
of what it looked like
when the rain seemed like it would never end,
when the spillways gave way,
when main streets became rivers

(photos borrowed from a community facebook page – the text included is what was posted with the photo – some include a few follow up comments)

we live to the north up on the ridge above Jersey Valley…we lost power and had literally a RIVER running thru our basement…never in the 23 years we’ve lived here have we seen such flooding and damage…so so worrysome.

Jersey Valley Lake, North of Westby, WI off of County Road X. Dam spillway eroded away causing the 52 acre lake to empty down the valley to communities of Bloomingdale and Avalanche.

Looking north on Hwy 131 heading into La Farge around noon today – water was still rising and long time local resident said he hadn’t ever seen it that high there before. Who knows what is going on now that it has just rained another 2 to 3 inches in the past hour or so .

Tuesday Aug 28th. Ontario WI. I’m not sure who took this photo.
and still rising.
F*#%^ me!

Just wanted to share a few of the mind blowing pictures I had found that friends have posted of the Flood of 2018. It is by far the worst flood Viola has ever seen and the water continues to rise.
Stay safe everyone.

chaseburg, wi

Near Highway P in La Farge. Another 3.25 this afternoon!

Outside of LaFarge… before Valley on P

a slow sludge

the peanuts
blackened in the toaster oven
on their way to becoming peanut butter
but my impatience
had me cranking up the heat on the burner
the weird blips today
going to reach for something and forgetting what,
a slow sludge
the haze of prcoessing
the cancer news of someone close
the woman at the nursery who is essentially asking
the impossible of a growing thing:
7′-8′ only tall
it fills in but it’s not an evergreen
and it doesn’t need to be trimmed back
and it flowers and it
doesn’t just sit there like a statue
mike who sells xmas trees in NYC each winter
but lives a humble diy life in missouri the rest of the year
showing us the video of his side-craft game:
a wintery figure with a pipe
which is actually smoking
because it doubles as an incense burner
and it is burning incense
at the moments the video was shot
the blaring weather radio
high alarming pitch
going off three times
in one night
right next to the head of our sleeping guest
on the orange couch
warning of rain

lightning rides wild

the soft caramel color
of theĀ  cows that run with me
trotting along the other side of the fence
those big sweet eyes,
those soft looking bodies
you’re no weakling i say
holding the phone up for the best reception
from my floor perch in the back room
you’re a badass as far as i’m concerned

so what am i supposed to do
get my breasts chopped off,
go in for chemo
get radiation
wear the wig
wear the headwrap
wear the fucking pink ribbon

no thanks she says
all the great greens layered in the
jars of just-made cucumbers lined up
on a towel on the kitchen table
while the big pot on the stove whirs
filled with hot water
the gray swirl of cat
curled on my rib slope
under the blue covers
while the lightning
rides wild across sky

something celebratory

the maroon/purple truck hurtling at me
as it passes two cars
heading in the opposite direction as me

on highway 14 where i pedal
at my snail pace (compared to car pace)
on the gravel shoulder
making my slow way home
something celebratory she says
about the first pop
of the first canned good
of the season

breakfast for dinner
we eat eurocreme
on bagels
with smoked salmon
and garden tomatoes