Tag Archives: heart advice

when the gusts pick up

lean in i say lean in and savor it
not that he’s asking for advice
but this is what i offer
in the strawberry patch
regarding his current matters of the heart
_______
how are you with bird sounds
i ask and ask around again 
while we dig up strawberries for runners and while we crunch on crackers and carrot dip
so i can know the name of the bird
whose sound keeps captivating me
(later, after mica searches ‘magical sound’ and ‘forest bird’ she finds it: the wood thrush
and when i look it up in the bird book
i’m punched a little by the phrase declining in numbers in recent years)
_______
the wind shaking juniper berries out of the cedar tree
and the tray of ground cherry halves i guard
when the gusts pick up
so the detritus doesn’t land
on the sliced open fruits
laid out across the dehydrator trays
_______
the green smily face in the middle of the cross section
of the ginormous cherry tomato i just cut in half and when i see it
i cannot help but laugh
outloud
_______
emory tossing each clean item of his laundry (tshirts and shorts mostly)
just plucked from the line
onto the porch floor – which is a notoriously dusty surface
to fold them
_______
emory, eric and in
seated around the computer screen in the office laughing
at the beginnings of home alone 
which, turns out, is surprisingly more engaging
than i had anticipated
_______
how the moon
not yet full, but getting there
sends light through the trees so that i don’t need
do flick on the headlamp
on my way down the footpath
behind the priv
along the mushroom logs
to sugar shack

_______
from the water world:

People sit in water and play mahjong at a water park on a hot day in Chongqing, China. – voice of america , day in photos

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, Uncategorized, writing