the accidental early

the accidental early rise
(6:30am wake instead of 7:30)
due to a watch set for an hour ahead
and the magnificent quiet
and pastel sunrise
it brings
gibbous ribbous she calls gibbous
the skeleton wearing a cat suit
who keeps finding my lap to curl up on
and whose ribcage i can feel risefalling
on my thighs
on the couch
in front of the woodstove
the dust burning rubber haze
drifting in the office
from the vacuum cleaner
whose belts are burning
and whose motor/body was probably
never built for the dust/dirt/pebbles
of a farm
the dinner
coooked in the cleanest version
this whitehouse kitchen has been:
redeeming greens soup
with brown rice
and the soy sauced chickpeas

the orange zest whose flavor i mistake
for orange juice
in the sweet potatoes with toasted pecans
tonight’s sunset color report:
unicorn blood.
(the hottest brightest pinkest bloodiest magenta along the horizon
with some pastel pink blue patches  while the hazey moon glow looks over it.)
robin wall kimmerer’s words
across the last braiding sweetgrass pages:
The moral covenant of reciprocity calls us to honor our responsibilities for all we have been given, for all that we have taken. It’s our turn now,  long overdue. Let us hold a giveaway from Mother Earth, spread our blankets out for her and pile them high with gifts of our own making… Whatever our gift, we are called to give it and dance for the renewal of the world.


as the sky starts dusking

breakfast spread on the table (galvanized steel tub turned upside down):
blueberries – some huge enough to be a small small plum
oranges, cut into slices
manna bread (how it has been years since i have ripped a piece off of a loaf and brought its wholeness with fruityness and nuttiness tucked inside
to my hungry mouth)

the sweetest bed in a tent that anyone has ever made up for me
arranged by mahogany
complete with a cardboard foundation and
a mat outside the door
raven telling me about how he walks and runs places
and how he used to bike, but the gears have been messed up since a minor crash
and mahogany telling me how raven
learned that he could just change his name if he wanted to
which he did
from bob
 in the back of the truck
whose driver has offered her and mahogany and i a ride
to the parking lot
it’s not like we haven’t done this before sole says to me in reference to
all those rides we hitched around the big island
some easier to catch than others
and sometimes singing that oh lord won’t you buy me a color tv janis joplin song
to the air we moved through
reading the robin wall kimmerer chapter
about the three sisters aloud
to mahogany in the drivers seat while we wait for sole
as the sky starts dusking and the moon
is already bright-bright overhead

night #2 of climbing into bed
within hearing distance
of the clear cool creek flowing
gently through the soundscape
under a moony sky
and a million trees reaching out overhead

our power

stepping out onto the porch in the morning
following the gaze of mama cat which is set on the wood siding of the east facing wall of the cedar room
where a bat is attached and presumably asleep
our power snack mark says
holding out the bag of salted pumpkin seeds
partway through the nemo birthday frisbee tournament
robin wall kimmerer
providing a possible answer to a conuncrum i’ve been turning over for years now:
a pronoun that isn’t ‘it’ for referring ot trees or sun or rivers or raccoons etc.
her proposal:
ki (pronounced ‘key’) for singular and kin for plural,
ki coming from aaki which is the part of the potowami aakibmaadiziiwin (‘being of the earth’) that means ‘land’

hail the circumference of a
50-cent piece 
held in the palm of my hand
outside the memphis theater
grabbed from the sidewalk and tossed back down again

the plum-colored skittles package that matches
the plum-colored shirt that mica wears
and the sound of the candy shell as it crunches in between my teeth
while we situate ourselves in the front row
for the memphis community theater’s production
of oklahoma
the lightening that has scattered itself
across the sky in all directions
lighting up and going dark
lighting up and going dark again