from our home-made mad lib

sparky the small dog
who must weigh 10 pounds
fallen into the down blanket crevass
between us
sleeping into morning
it was so cold, i thought i might wake
to find the ground covered in tax forms
we both laugh a lot at this line in particular

from our home-made mad lib
that we leave on the counter
at lisa’s place in town where we dog sat
the red/black box
wrapped in sheer maroon bow
lisa brought us from the chocolate place and how later
we pass the truffles
(one red and faceted like a jewel,
one domed and with a lacquered looking strip running across it
[the sheen/depth similar to a tiger eye jewel or
a polished strip of wood])
and one pyramid-like
with little cacao nibs tumbling off
two of the neighbors
and their two dogs
(everest, the month old border collie) and mollie
tumbling over each other
and chasing and jumping and
too cute for most words
though i do say something about
how this is some quality puppy tv

the huge round rising
of an almost full moon
against the lavender blueberry sky,
sun just about to dip down
into horizon
what luck
to get to follow it back home

in the inky sky

parsley sprigs
plucked and chopped on the cutting board
while two halves of the small garden eggplant
get soft and dark in the heat
of the toaster set to  broil
indigenous activists
showing up to shut the climate summit down
we are the water
we are the air
if they are dying
we are dying
let us be keepers of the earth like we once were
put us back in charge
to set it right

moves something
in me

the kind of cloud/light play in the inky sky
that shows up in scary movies that take place
on friday the 13th or halloween night
only this moon is just a sickle shape
blasting its brightness into patches
of cloud – clear – cloud
moving across it

two owls calling
into the tree shadows and sharp stars:
who cooks for you and
back forth back forth

sometimes overlapping

in the moving light

the extraordinary pile of dishes we make and leave
on our way out the door to a picnic
(baskets packed) and movie outing
near the edge of the great mississippi
where its waters touch land
the click of reese’s pieces, that candy shell
bumping against candy shell in the box
eaten in the moving light
of the darkened movie theater
jokingly run by kids

the moon – how we gasp when we catch the first sight
of its rising
an unbitten peach lit up in the dark
dusty, almost
the orange red color most likely compliments of
the wildfires raging in the west

what gives you resilience

the monarch flitting around
from zinnia to zinnia in the patch i planted
if there were a good example for a word
opposite of failure, this would be a perfect moment
for illustrating it

cynthia and i laughing on the line
her in a church parking lot in berea
me in the bedroom of a trailer with pink shutters
in the green acres mobile estate
i appreciate your guidance i tell bruin
who’s been dropping some science about being a tracker
and he responds by thanking me
and appreciating my hard work
write down he says what gives you resilience

moonbright light shining
through the arching white birch branches
dangling their leaves in the glow

the young and fuzzy

the sweet shape of the young and fuzzy
coral bells that have reseeded themselves and
sprout up through the gravel ground
in the shade perennials lot
and how i dig some of them up
to bike home in my backpack
in a small pot
the bright yellow tongues of bloom
bursting from the first sunflower
a shorty variety that came back
from last year’s

how bright even just a sliver
of moon can be
dangling just over treetops
beaming its glow out
for a mailbox walk
with a garden visit on the side

rise together

the only gay thing in it is the author’s name raye says
about “conscious loving” by katie and gay hendricks
what brings you joy she asks and i am grateful
to have that question back
in circulation
the firefly on/off glow coming out
as we watch the moon and saturn
rise together

keren and i joking
about all the ridiculous ways
to dismantle the too-bright streetlight
the sound of horses and a buggy
coming around the foresty bend at dusk
and the smallest light dangling and swaying
as we see it pass

in the darkest of dusk

how, at first glance, it could be an orange street light
come on in the darkest of dusk but instead
what i have caught in my eye is the night jewel,
the big rose quartz pendant
the moon
pink pearl orange
glowing as it rises

it’s the sound that catches my attention
and as we stand observing/watching
it is the cat creatures
emerging from the woods
to eventually, with plenty of inspecting,
swirl around our ankles
one white with greyish spots and the other
a more steady color