where the sky view becomes

the frienz and juniper and i
eating waffles (with strawberry compote) and eggs
on the back porch while lisi
lounges alongside us
in the sun

later we blow kisses from the front porch
to the frienz in the car that will follow the mississippi home
_______
first backyard monarch butterfly
spotted in joann’s lilacs blooming
_______
not one but two cold bottles
of champagne in lynn’s backpack
when she shows up at the front door
welcoming and seeking
_______
the red spicy tortilla chip bag
dangling in juniper’s grip
as we hunt down the sunset
by speedwalking to the edge of town
where the sky view becomes almost 360 degrees
we are sucking the marrow
_______
the sunset smudged purple gray
by distant rain
but still some soft pink and hot pink spots
to the east and north
_______
in which the laptop
almost slides completely off my lap
as i doze off

i wanted to order a fish meal

sorry, we’re out of hamburgers
i call out the side window to evan
after he whips into the driveway at an alarming speed
that’s fine he says i wanted to order a fish meal
_______
we journey to the garden
in light of the overnight frost warning
to cover the tomatoes
with mason jars
that we tuck the tomatos and tomatillos and cucumbers under
_______

the little red envelope
placed on the dinner table
addressed to the frenz –
its contents promising a saturday surprise
_______

one of the things i love about lisi cat
is that he insists on following us into bed to sleep
and is malleable enough to do so
even when we set up sleep camp
one room over from the usual room

relics

an ache
a longing
i don’t remember the exact words
but these are the things juniper feels out here
where the hills roll green
the sky is big
and the smell of silage
swoops through
_______
the pink petal from a blossoming tree
on my toe (the original nail polish i say)
while juniper walk the neighborhood
(sweet with honeysuckle scent)
without shoes
_______

in the unpacking
several co-op wax paper pastry bags found
relics from a pre-covid time
when i would re-use the pastry bags
back when the pastries weren’t pre-packed
in plastic

the group hug

the group hug
in the driveway at the shivers house
instigated by lora with chloe and julia and mari
while brandon packs inside
and haku the softest and wildest black kitten
overlooks all from a stairstep
_______
the taste of warm vanilla rooibos steaming
in the light green hand-made mug
along with the sound of steady one-or-two-steps-up-from-drizzle rain (portland-like)
trickling in the drainpipe out my desk-side window
_______

imagine having a job that requires you
to mash and squish other people’s breasts all day
i say about the woman running the mammogram machine
not as an insult to her but more at a marveling
of what an odd (and important) job it is
_______

juniper measuring the length
of one garden plot against the length
of another in paces
before we begin digging in
and planting
and mulching
in the great expanse of

no you didn’t

when a colleague responds after i state my personal value of
dismantling the capitalist white supremacist heteropatriarchy
by saying that reminds me of another value (of our organization) i wanted to share:
respectful language

It is times like these that it is important to remember
that i always carry the i do not weep at the world (Zora Neale Hurston) oyster knife
rite-of-passaged to me
on a rooftop at uc san diego

not knife as weapon
but knife as strength

thank you, wayne

like an L

before the day’s sun
i rise and sway over
to the back window to see
if i might be able to make out the shape
(if they are there) of the mama deer curled up with
her spotted fawn
in the back yard
_______

the red-winged blackbirds
of apple’s missouri pond/land
as heard here in wisconsin through the zoom screen
while the book club meets
to discuss the book they’re not going to discuss
(and the next book they hope to discuss)
_______
a glimpse of the mama and her fawn
walking side by side
through the beyond-backyard garden land
_______

you didn’t come to rescue me
from falling asleep like an L
juniper says half asleep
referring to how i usually harass them
to shuffle down the bed
into a lying down position
when they fall asleep sit-slouching up
neck crunched and book slid out of hands
_______
the pre-sunset light
golding the three tall birches
way out back
as seen from the office of hot pink
_______

and then, as seen from out front
the dazzle of the almost neon purples/hot pinks
of the sunset as seen from the driveway

chasing sunset

the may pole-ing across the way
as seen while i pack freebie bananas into my bike pannier
the colored fabric strips
brilliant in the sun
the strained claps and strings
and where are the boys in dresses
where is the goofy dance play
where is the irreverence and sequins
_______

búho removing blue tape
from living room walls
while their sparkling beverage
effervesces in its can
_______
juniper and i chasing sunset on foot
down the northwest streets of town
til we get to the edge of a field
fenced but filled
with green
and yellow blooms
and the songs of red-winged blackbirdsj

in bands of blue

the bittersweet symphony of strings
drifting in the upstairs common open window
from the young waldorfians rehearsing on the playground
across the way
while rory and i hammer out details
of the first draft of the sexual accountability policy
_______
the weird sadness
of returning to once-home
to pack the random remainders
and to spritz and spruce and sweep amongst:
the window lisi would spend hours
gazing out of for signs of rabbit or neighbor cats,
the one square foot in the kitchen we would all squeeze into
when coffee time coincided with cat-breakfast time,
the sun setting in the plant-shelf window
where ki always sets
this time in bands of blue and lavender,
the birch trees (on the hill) that know me,
doing the same leaning in i’ve been doing
for the past three years
on  the back bathroom window
to gaze up at south stars
_______
looking out the windshield from the paused car
in the country dark
while juniper settles back in to the passenger seat
after turning the key in the mailbox

struck and startled at what i see
(what is a word for not being sure of what you’re seeing/
seeing something for the first time), i leap out
to stand under the stream of single file stars
flowing overhead in the gravel road silence and say
what the what what what !? juniper, you gotta see this
come back out

starlink she says (a series of 60 linked satellites)
looking up in the deep dark

not ownership, kinship.

the neighbor
may have seen me
hugging the giant maple tree
in the back yard
that, weirdly, we can now call ours
if one does believe in owning such things
but i now call ki ours
like how one might say a mother is theirs
or a sibling is theirs
_______
the afternoon sun
through the neighboring red/maroon-leafed tree
against the glass-blue sky
patched with brightest cloudwhite
as seen through the big big window
that lisi the cat shelf-perches in

to watch the clouds pulse with light

while the (late) morning eggs sizzle
in the small silver pan on the stove,
someone’s knuckles rap the secret knock
on the solid dark wood door,
and on the other side,
the sweet smiles of javi, zara and fede –
homemade arepas in  fede’s hands
_______

the way the bubbles bounce on the carpet
before javi pops them with glee
and the way lisi the cat tentatively rests
at the edge of the carpet
and also hides under the furniture
_______
the sweet frog song
lifting up near maple dale creek and the wetlands beyond
as we pedal through
the unusually warm and dry day
spotting dutchman’s breeches, flox, blood root, wild ginger, nettles,
buttercup, violets, amongst others,
along the roadside as we ride
_______
my feet bare
in the icy creek –
whose clear water runs
shallow but fast
_______
peg whose face i recognize
catches us on a walk says
she hears we’re new
and welcomes us with enthusiasm
(turns out i know her face because
we were in jane’s workout class several times
and maybe sang together now or then)
_______
the dots of wet
on the cement outside the window
indicating the rain
has finally arrived
_______
lightning flickering to the north
through front windows
how i ask juniper if we can turn off the lamp
just to watch the clouds pulse with light