nearly cresting the final high point
on the ride of many hills to town
the woman golfer with both her fists up
cheering me on on this hot day
you go get it girl!
and instead of saying thanks
as i did when i passed her
i wished i would have said
why aren’t you here at this spot cheering me on every time i ride to town!?
_______
the squeak sounds coming
from someone’s yard as i bike past
revealing itself to be two people
at a picnic table
shucking corn
healing of any kind
me grumbling and puffing at my phone
telling it to f off when i realize
it hasn’t registered the miles
(few though they were) that i ran in the already hot morning sun
_______
healing of any kind
is never linear joolie says
over there near the atlantic ocean
and me over here in the hills
_______
the monarch and tiger swallowtail
simultaneously seen
flitting in/out of the cosmos, zinnias, sunflowers
_______
it feels like being a kid whose parents are always fighting i say
about this time of politicized and polarized everything
yeah, and if that’s the metaphor, then there’s also cheeto
coming over to tell one of the parents “ooh – you wouldn’t believe
what the other parent said about you,
you wouldn’t believe what the other parent did when you weren’t looking…”
with a twig and a prayer
the flat small black snake, tire-crushed
that i lift from the gravel road
with a twig and a prayer
before placing ki in the green grasses and leaves
on the side of the road –
how i didn’t know at first
if ki was still alive or not
until the death smell and bugs feasting
through the skin and into the flesh
revealed itself upon the lifting
glimmering across the darkness
we meet in the co-op parking lot
going off car descriptions
to hand over the sewing machine and the cash
_______
how we haul the heavy picnic table
out of the glare of the distant streetlight
and on it, we gaze up
to drink the perseids in with our eyes and spirits
and juniper thanks the stars and sky
and they blaze from north to south
across the darkness
and how we lay head to head on the tabletop gazing up
so we can catch the same glimmers at the same time
clyde the green workhorse
the thin light gray sweater i wear
turning dark gray with the rain that i pedal through
on the six mile ride home
the dopey smile on my face
because the temperature isn’t too cold
and the rain isn’t too heavy
and i love riding clyde the green workhorse (aka my bike)
through the cloudmist
awake to sunrise sun
orange gold lifting up through the cloudmist
_______
our funny hi fives
as we pass each other on the gravel road
where we’re both heading to the creek
but at different paces
asleep in the flower bed
how gray kitty asleep in the flower bed
(especially because he’s recovering from some cat fight wounds
and especially because he’s been slightly sick for a bit
and especially because it seems like he possibly no long really has a home)
melts and breaks my heart
singing as they ripen
the peanut gallery back there i joke
about mom chiming in in the background
of my dad birthday call
_______
tomato branches outside the pink desk window
bare from blight yet the clumps of orange cherry tomatoes
absolutely sing as they ripen and burst with brightness
in the sun
_______
a rustling in the flower bed of a cat asleep
awakened as i water the very nearby zinnias, butterfly weed, cosmos and pincushion flowers
detail collector 
