Tag Archives: weather

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

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further away from endureland

remember what you care about he says and move towards that
i want your pendulum to swing further into righteousness and further away from endureland

_______

plucking some of the season’s last strawberries
(their bright redness!)
from the plants as we weed and
later navigating the brambles of black raspberry, as we pluck some of the first fruits

_______
sun on our skin as we air dry
post-swim 
under a bird with some black-white something
gliding over while a bobwhite sings
off to the west

_______

the sewn travel silverware pouch
wrapped in gold/silver paper and the
free xmas card disguised as a birthday card
sealed in its envelope
how i set them on the couch next to mica
as we spoon the last of the cherry ice cream (somewhat sticky/freezer burned as ice cream gets over time, but turns out i don’t mind in the slightest)
into our mouths

_______
sunset walk down the back road:
how the sky is blazing in neon pinks and dusty purples and how
the midwestern version of mountains along the horizon is clouds
and how the lightning flickers behind one of the thickest ones (clouds)
and how the glimmer (of fireflies) is everywhere: decorating trees, adorning open spaces, flickering 
neon green blink on
neon green blink off
and i apologize for not having been in a while and i thank
that the sky, the road, the green of the trees, the magnificent clouds are still there
and that, while we may not have oceans or mountains, we have this
_______

the sweet soft high whinny
(almost with a purr in it)
of an eastern screech owl
tucked somewhere in the patch of woods
between cool ranch and the chicken yard
heard in the twinkling dark (fireflies)
11-something p.m.
_______
the mighty winds and bright
shocks of light and the tiniest mist
sometimes blowing in the loft windows
and a cat who normally prefers minimal touch
being the baby spoon while i 
click out the light 
and the elements weather everything
beyond

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the prayer in me

float-flitting about and about again
back-forth-backing
the small bird seen from loft window
as morning makes itself
the i.d. book tells me is a gnatcatcher
_______
my only wish if it were my birthday today
i say on the way to harvest the last of the  peas to baigz whose birthday it actually is
would be for rain
_______
the particular plunk of blueberries
(the diameter of a nickel)
as we drop them into plastic buckets celebrating
first bloobs of the season

_______
tyler in the kitchen letting out a whoop
at the first drops of rain and from the lab,
i yell out a yeyyyyeeeeeessssssssssssss!
and from somewhere down the way
I can hear baigz cheering too
_______
how the first crack of thunder
(after a flash of bright so brilliant it is visible even
in the daylight)
splits everything around me in half
including myself
so holy there is no difference
between the prayer in it and the prayer
in me
_______
the tineiest of tiny elderberry flowers
i pluck from the tree for identifying – 
turns out they are indeed elderberry
and later gift them to baigz
birthday elderberry! i proclaim while giving it to him
(and later, i pick up hail – birhtday hail! – and gift him one
and put two in my apple cider and fizzy water drink)
_______
the bright red of unripe berries and the 
deep purple of the ripe ones
found several yards outside my door
a delicious walk
_______
the something like opera that comes out of my mouth
when i encounter a raccoon about four feet from me
at face level
in the beam of my headlamp
and after the opera
how i tell raccoon loud as i can
to go away
_______
how some nights (like tonight) are oil lamp nights
even though the electricity isn’t out
it’s the lightning and rain that made me do it

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a word for the way the new light hits

how the day begins: 
ears and body, tawny colored,
that i glimpse moving through the part-sun, part-shade all-green woods
out the north facing window
that i think is a bobcat
but, as it moves into the tiniest clearing i can see
is a fawn
what is a word for the way the new light hits its young ears
up and alert?
_______
how the day also begins:
gray bird landing on the mottled bark of a persimmon tree
just outside the north-facing window
how i guess catbird and then it makes its squeaky whiny call, yes, cat bird
_______
and the day also starts this way: 
mama cat following me up the path
that i walk every morning (and that she follows me on every morning) 
towards the whitehouse
past the fluffs of fur from the gibbous/mama cat fight 
from yesterday evening
_______

that sortof tropical sounding bird cynthia says as we listen for its call
of the pileated woodpeckers that have arrived
as we stand in south garden
along the brassicas – whose collard leaves and kale leaves we are about to harvest
_______
on the dinner menu
which i prepare soundtracked by cocorosie and bon iver (both of which are so very many years ago
but it’s been a while) : 
tepary bean/quinoa salad with peas and spinach
massaged kaleslaw
toasted/seasoned pumpkin and sunflower seeds
a dutch baby and a dutch baby baby 
with sliced strawberries to scatter on top
in celebration of the big news
_______

i’ve never been called big sister i say
to glow who just appreciated my big sisterhood
i’ve been the youngest all me life
_______
in our latest episode  i joke with mom and dad
who are following my life
like a soap opera as it unravels
like a soap opera but whose life
doesn’t?
the cool air breezing in the open windows
perfect in temperature (mid 60s to low 70s)
and windy enough that i can later sit on the porch
mama cat in my lap purring as if she was never feral
without being bothered by a single mosquito

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slow and light

massacre i call it
because that’s what it is…
my reckless killing of at least 50 ants on the floor
some i squish with a tissue
some i crush under my shoe and some
i press hard into the wood with my bare fingers
_______
sia on the playlist and 
peach strawberry crisp in the oven and
toasted seeds version 2.0 in the bowl with the serving spoon
and the potatoes about to finish roasting
to set alongside the just-roasted asparagus and all with a ltitle chimichurri
to top it off
_______
the frog walking along
the bottom edge of the other side of the kitchen sink window screen
as i wash the last of the dinner dishes
how i cannot help but but my finger
where it’s three-toed foot is
and how it moves its toes
slow and slight
_______
watching the entire world (of growing things with stalks or trunks) bend
heavy with spring green
in the unweildy winds
that make walking the short path through the woods seem like
a bad but necessary thing
_______

the thin carpet
of white petals
pulled down by today’s ferocious winds
onto the bright green of all
the foresty undergrowth
_______
from the water (less) world:

An Indian man walks over the parched bed of a reservoir on the outskirts of Chennai – voice of america, day in photos

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awesome hairdos

almost just out of reach but not quite: the black locust blossoms (one of my favorite smells
of all season) dangling near the privvy walkway
how i lean and steady and lean and reach until i have two clumps in my hand
that i pin to my updo
(which is very little ‘up’ or ‘do’ since i have not such an abundance of hair)
and then later
i collect the clumps and bunches off the ground
where the wind and rian has thrown them
within reach
______
interesting shapes  i say
about the loaves of bread
coming out of the oven just before emory says the same thing, only in his own way:
they have awesome hairdos
_______

dark blue/gray approaching from the west
and then rumbles and then some lightning
and then the front of cool wind
that carries the storm in its wake
is upon us
and though i didn’t get the edamame planted today
i did just transplant a bunch of
good looking sunflower starts
_______
.9 inches the rain guage reads
after the storm that swiftly swpt through
for an hour and a half or so
_______

the mother’s day bouquet that cynthia picks/arranges for tylers mom:
some of the first peonies
some of the last irises
plus sweet williams
bursting with color and volume
_______
the first thought that comes in during the first moments of closed-eye sitting silence:
today, it’s hard to be in this body
(emphasis on ‘today’ – and not: it’s dificult to keep myself in this body, but the act of being in this body today in that very moment
is sad and hard)

_______
the unnerving tiny and only very occasional sounds
coming from somewhere in the woodstack
housed in the woodstack cubby
(which i have not yet made a door for, but hope to)
in my room
_______

moon showing partway through the clouds as they pass/cross
and the screechy sounds of what i think are raccoons, but don’t sound entirely like raccoons but i can’t imagine what else they would be
_______
the perfectly spooky shadows cast onto cedarwood wall
when a spider (and later a carpenter ant)
walks across an xmass light bulb

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brighter/better

jordan asks about the pressure, explains about the scapula, moves quietly about me in the perfect-temperatured room (70 something) in her bare feet

unfraying the twisted knots layered so deep
under the surface of my muscle/skin
_______
dottie, cynthia, eric, darien and i
at a picnic table in the gazebo which is not a gazebo but i can’t recall what darien so perfectly called it
some of us licking the slow drip of chocolate vanilla soft serve swirl
and some of us licking the melt of a rice dream frozen treat and some of us
not partaking at all
_______
it is the kind of day where
the sun couldn’t shine brighter/better
and the clouds couldn’t puff or contrast (against that bright blue) any better
and the wind couldn’t feel any less than perfect
on our faces as we roll up/down the county highway
with the sun roof open
_______
how even the envelope itself
(the one postmarked corvalis
with sole’s handwriting
across the front and back)
has a scent
from just being near oil (doterra) spray blends
_______
one spearmint sprig
and two peppermint sprigs
plus some stem of sweet cicily
plucked from herb garden and beyond
and dropped into my stainless drinking cup
how i prasie this season of
growing things
_______
smoke em if you got em  i joke about the rosemary
when trish (tonight’s cook) instructs eric to go grab some from the greenhouse and says there’s one that looks dead, take from that
_______
the hot pinks and dark red pinks and shades along that spectrum
of the sweet williams coming up
in the back of the herb garden
from which i pluck just one cluster
to add to my wild flox and sweet sicily and that wild yellow flower
whose name i don’t know
_______
how the light of the moon
is water-like
as i move through it, then,
i am nightswimming

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