To feel the red soil, fine dust to pea gravel, with each toe through the sole of my shoe. To feel held by the earth, rooted and dear. Soften one knee with deliberate balance, shift weight gradually to the other foot and then sway back, to feel the hip roll follow the first to … Read more
Fences mended with twine until there’s more time. Scrubbed water tanks filled fresh, drank down to half by noon. Shoveling muck into the cart, I would be done by now, but for the meadowlark aerials just above. But for the Canada geese inspecting the tall weeds at the edge of the pond. But for … Read more
To the land of Parrot Chickens.
What poetry and Brussel sprouts have in common.