Wednesday, June 5, 2013

We Breathe the Mingle (from the journal)





Flattened by many little feet,
a handful of yellow buttercups
next to the yellow school bus.  5-4-13



Let it come then.
Let it make the world wet.
Let it rain down new leaves,
down unopened white blossoms,
down the cool air, newly green.  5-7-13



Showing the way,
dogwood’s dry white petals
litter the path.  5-11-13



The long slide of a day
can’t be recollected by word or image.
There were steps on a sidewalk,
but they walked away.  5-16-13



Five locusts pretending to be one,
visible now by their own
hanging lights.  5-16-13



The weighted air is held up gracefully
by maple, sieboldii, columbine, mustard. 
Table companions in the morning roar.  5-17-13.



Fleabane—
between white and pink,
their own suns.  5-17-13



Catbird in the crab apple
has all my ears.
Redbird’s, too.  5-18-13



Catbird is having a quiet
conversation with the cool morning air.
Not at all one-sided.  5-19-13



Redbird punches
punctuated holes
through the morning air.  5-21-13



Who broke the bird bath?
Catbird wants to know, too.  5-21-13



A cold morning
warmed by tomorrow’s light,
yesterday’s breeze,
a bit of blue
coming through.  5-25-13



Locust litters the path—
a bit of extra light for footfalls,
a shelter of petals to draw the light,
down.  5-25-13



Bladdernut is covered with
liquid jewels. 
The sun seeks them out.  5-28-13



Light and wind
dapple the woods.
We breathe the mingle.
Bitterwort and me,
breathe.  5-29-13


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