Tag Archives: nature

reverse snow

how i fill the morning with the smell of boiling/steeping cardamom, star anise, cinnamon, fennel, burdock, chicory and dandelion

the rattle of mason jars in boxes
as we jostle the collection of reminders
from porch and living room to larry’s car
from which we watch the fall colors and risefall of farmland unfolding as we roll up the long and gradual hill out of town towards the most beautiful trailer park on the planet

sunlight moving through the milkweed that climbs/floats up around us (reverse snow says either jennnifer or larry)
as we pluck the soft feathery poofs from their pods
release them in the general direction
of texas

the smell  she says standing against the kitchen island in the light seeping in through sliding door in the kitchen and i can’t recall if this is before or after the incident involving a hand carved spoon (lines and whorls in blueblack and blondish)
that can’t be washed away

the way emma on the sidewalk where we three stand in sun and under trees says the word progress a dead giveaway of her
canadian roots

eggshell, illuminated
jesus’s aura
mary’s aura
light through lace curtains
this evening’s names
for colors in the sunset sky
the smell of garden-plucked basil (gathered before another damaging frost)
drfting up the back porch stairs and into the kitchen


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with a swiftness

the thank-you note in my scrawl
addressed to ghana regarding the delicious and perfect chocolate chip cookies
the sweat in beadlets along the curve of baigz’s back
as a small crew of us move through the patches of recently germinated carrots
thinning and weeding
in the hoophouse heat
sparkle and spice written
on the tell-tale blue (a mini banner)
affixed to the silver holographic pencil
just under its hot pink eraser topper
liek the pencil has an announcment to make
which it does
a list of symptoms addressed
to dr. danger
read in the hammock
where white pine limbs and needles plus wind
make that particular and most magnificent sound
as if the needles are combing the air that moves through
as seen from the back road
where two cats (mama and ashby) trot behind me
hwo the low cloud is dark/gray and it moves with a swiftness over the higher puffier whiter cloud
and that’s not even to mention
all the varying edges
and orange pink light and how earlier
emory exploded through the front door while some of us sat to dinner
exclaiming it was so beautifullllll!!!!! about the seriously
highway-to-heaven sunray sky
he encountered on the ride home
rough concrete of the cistern top below me as i recline under sky
and take in flashes of light that travel the clouds heading east –
how at their edges, constellations reveal themselves
another light-a-candle-don’t-turn-on-the-lights night
in which, before i light the candle,
i loft-lay in the breeze of the fan at the end of what might be the last 90-degree day of the season
to watch the green world glow and darken
in the lightning
the sound of ashby’s claws in the screen
wanting in 
but i don’t let him because it might be
too warm inside
for his comfort
from the water world:


A Hindu devotee performs “Pind Daan” – rituals for the soul of ancestors – in the river ganges at Phaphamau, Allahabad, India – voice of america, day in photos

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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

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emory and i in the circle of oaks
(fondly called the faerie ring)
perched in the sloping curves the trunks make where they meet earth
we talk a little
but we also just watch
while jack trots around
his neon orange collar jingling
as he sniffs in the distance

this is the worst idea i’ve had yet emory declares with excitement
about biking up the gravel with the deadliest looking black locust thorn clump
tucked in his handlebars
(how he could impale himself, in a non-life-threatening way, if he crashed on his bike)
and i’ve had some pretty bad ideas he finishes his sentence
pedaling wildly ahead
one of the many ditto’d sentiments
spoken in the past handful of days

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a prize

chicken of the woods
a huge harvest
pulled in and sitting on kitchen table
a prize
glowing golden orange
remembered/belated detail:
i looked at the bat boxes she says to see how they were made

emory and i sprawled on our backs
on the leafy twiggy floor of fortsythia
looking up through the weave of branches
crossing over us
on top of which, birdie the cat pokes at a nest
while a nearby cardinal
calls and calls out
eating frozen damson plums which look like marbles and are hard and cool in our hands
but behave like sorbet in our mouths
emory points out the hilarity of the sign on the front of the walk-in coolers and freezers
that says:
miami, florida

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out of our wearying

a small wing
on the south-facing window’s sill
transluscent and shiny
and lined with orangey/light brown veining/webbing
the black locust pod on the edge of the gravel road i’m running
how i jump back because of its coiled and upright looking-like-a-snack-in-attack-mode appearance
and i, who am normally not alarmed by snakes
and think of my tendency to freeze rather than fight or fly
am comforted
by this proof of instant and quick reaction
of my animal brain
in true secret-sister language style
ami and i develop the code
mouse trap for the parent trap-like switcheroo solution
that will lead us with ease
out of our wearying and complex human conundrums
the black and white image i’ve had for years
of a photocopy of a magazine-found-photo
of a woman who looks like grandma 
(in size/shape and clothing – stockings, skirt/dress whose hem lands between knees and ankles, plus a button down sweater on top and maybe even
a babushka)
walking with her back to the camera
up a country-looking driveway/road
to a country-looking house
lined by some country-looking orchards
and backdropped by a country-looking mountain
placed somewhere prominent because
it feels like the old world
that janina never wanted to leave
and therefore
sings alive in my bones too

michael obryan tuning in from philly
it’s not about what’s wrong with someone,
it’s about what’s happened to them
we don’t often think of people’s growth and joy and building skills (their human flourishing) as addressing trauma
someone else later quoting someone else saying
if you’re not at the table,
you’re on the menu

she says she’s glad to help me
on my quilting adventure, and i say
in whatever time we are connected directly in this universe on this planet, i hope i don’t stop learning you
from the water world:

People wade along a flooded street during heavy rain showers in Mumbai, India. – voice of america, day in photos

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open the door and

3.8″ is what the rain guage
attached to the mailbox reads
after last night’s (and yesterday day’s) deluge)
barred owl calling so close
i can hear its beak clacking
just outside my windows
ashby the cat batting
at the pen i write with and licking the page
on the left while i scribble into the page on the right
open the door and toss those rules out gina says
encouraging me
in the red shadows
on the skype screen
from the couch where her and shannon and birdie sit


from the water world:

Waves triggered by Typhoon Hato are seen in Hong Kong, China. – voice of america, day in photos

People sunbathe at a beach on the Volga river in downtown Samara, Russia. – voice of america, day in photos

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