swirls of words
from infinite directions
collide
into a halting
heaping
wreckage
sweet silence ensues
with the alphabet on pause
I play with perception
see how easily
mole hills
become mountains
shhhhhh
look
it’s all in how
you
I wake from dreams of highways
intertwined
maneuvering speedways
and making lists
covers shift
arms lift
I sigh to the morning
with my foot
tucked between
his ankles
I know
just outside
there’s a newly planted
garden bed
sunrise rays
shine upon the starts
we planted
last night
by the sliver moon
how the Bohemian
parsed them out
placing pots
atop soil
imagining
growth potential
kale with marigolds
the peppers and tomatoes
where do you want the dill?
we could deliberate
with fresh soil
under fingernails
if the sunflower
will shade the strawberries
but then the Shama sings
a serenade
where all maps stop
in this terrain
no need to tame
chaotic lush
full growth
not here
in our little
six by twelve-foot
plot
we’ve got Spirulina in the soil
a year round growing season
let’s just put ’em
in the dirt
let them grow
watch and learn
watch and learn
The Bohemian flies out on a short trip and Jeb and I take him to the airport to catch a night flight.
We return home to a quiet house and I tuck Jeb into bed.
There’s a palpable vacancy in the stillness of our home. All of the lights are off in the other room. No splashing at the kitchen sink.
In the blue nightlight of Jeb’s bedroom he says, “I miss him already.”
These past weeks have had me zooming in and out in my perspectives. I’ve been watching chaotic pixelations de-blur to take organized form, then fuzz again on macro-vision. Sliding the view-finder in, then out.
It’s good to change the focal point. Feel the differences. Experience absence.
My heart is already full of fondness. Apparently, just growing more.
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