The heaving, singing stairs
wild st john’s wort, overzealous creek
ghosts of dead mice flung from their traps
anger idle buzzing on the grimy lazy susan
guests with their computers trailing cords
Amal asked the name of forget me nots
Jazz let me show her the garden
Lizzie tried to swim to the moon
Judy dragged me in a basket
Sis hit me with the fly swatter
Louise took me to the parking lot
a wasp stung my eye closed
Shadow of a fern shadow of a spider
looking for cooking teachers, for language teachers
someone teach me how to break a line
looking to steep something so satisfying
for you to want to try this carrot top tea
Once we were angry in this bed
tossing against each other
something about the hierarchy and the architecture
Quaker golfer looming royalty
the audacity of a stone porch
demanding leisure
All my friends
how I’ve watched them gleam and flock
now ethereal in a purple
they spin their gracious yarn
wincing, they forgive me
for my allergies, my tantrums
friendship, a love allowed to morph
forget me nots year round
I was alone on the path
feeling alive feeling alive
the snake met my angled clog
and made me leap without decision
permission to gallop,
trail tape flashing through the trees
pearly everlasting grove
the call of the tattletale
I pressed my hand to the moss
and felt you gone
the dense endlessness
the lack of tricks
the heaving in to let me lean
and ask to stay
stunner
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