We’re so critical
of screens.
Pixels, forming
only the known.
We scold our
children
for their obsession.
Watching disconnection
manifest in form.
Like VR goggles,
thoughts entomb
our sensitive vision.
One turtle up
true disconnection
goes round’.
Samsara
in our hands.
I saw her
coming on.
Clouds rolling,
grey and gray.
–
I’d prepared,
wheelbarrowing,
pitchforking,
cover crop seeding,
compost spreading,
to plant her
blueberry bushes.
–
She’s something
like the rain.
Never hesitating
to fall.
Always letting
go, into
rolling thunder,
white light.
–
If you stand
in her
she’ll drench you.
No matter
your clothes.
If you’re there
with her
she’ll hold you
up
like water
softened ground.
If you follow her
she’ll let you
watch her
grow.
You might not notice
less it cracks
–
It might hurt
less you’re the driver
Someone important said
people should write in cursive.
I wasn’t sure why
it seemed that technology
was outdated.
–
I’ve bought a few pens in my life
at the market, online, always for gifts.
What weight?
What point?
Why does it matter?
–
Now, sitting here,
sword sponsored by Sonoco,
the billboard’s bent ballpoint bouncing
within its too wide tip,
clip
shattered
by hyperextension in 2012
for a hyponychium stretch,
I understand the artist-brush relationship.
–
But I stash my lemon carefully
because inspiration might spoil
searching too long
for comfortable tools.
Why won’t I
say thank you
to my parents?
My YETI,
overflowing with gratitude
like i’ve chosen too many
ounces on the Keurig.
A nervousness like
when a wild animal
gets too close
for comfort
but a hope
your own stillness
brought them around.
Humic acids
fungal exudes
Cocci, bacilli
bacterial glues
Clay colloids to agregates
mining rocks
dissolved cements
Equalized by nematodes
arthropods with outside bones
Quickly moving forms with tails
flagellates, amoebas snail
Rotifers and water bears
ciliates with body hairs
A design so grand it built the world
those aggregates they lead to squirrels
So when you see a spider’s web
between the limbs of subtle hedge
Take a look, although entombed
insects wait to be consumed
One might bow to that small arachnid
eight legged and unattractive
Her mighty web came from herself
weaving, branches, leafs, a stone, itself
A daring feat spun in the air
victims winged and unaware
Just like the soil, she’s realized
her architecture is the prize
Sewing space the soil sings
as she returns the flying things
——
Dedicated to Dr. Elaine Ingham & Dr. Elaine’s Soil Food Web School
My friends and I have this meme
we pass each other rocks
Sometimes it’s the same one
we keep them in our pockets
Sometimes we pick up new ones
we’ve found on the street
Occasionally they have wings
or they’re hard to move like boulders
When apart they’re virtual
a rock emoji
In conversation, metaphorical
a reminder of what is
To us the rocks have value
we never pass them too often
but too often we find ourselves searching everywhere
but under our noses
Sometimes I forget about the rocks
like when my hands are full of groceries
or when my mother asks a favor
I’ll even turn rocks over in the garden
planting, mulching, watering,
and all I’ll see are hornets
But just when I forget
our drama’s real, life ending
We pass each other rocks
a place to stand when mending
–
Dedicated to R.B.
Spring has a sting
brought buy wing
and legged thing
–
An energy unmatched
igniting movement
at hornets dispatch
–
Their backs armoires
conglobate protecting
trillionpede harmonies
–
Humming emphatically
bodies sporadically
weaving ultraviolet majesty
–
Tunneling colonies
wafting swarms
nature’s biological storms
Do babies
smile at
peek-a-boo
because they
understand it’s
the way
things are?
Too short
Not long enough
Too big
Not small enough
Too thick
Not thin enough
Too long
Not short enough
Too many branches
Not easy enough
Too crooked
Not straight enough
Too fragile
Not strong enough
Too rough
Not smooth enough
–
Slowing still
soles strengthen
waists brace
palms tree
tools timber
wit wonders
permitting perfection
“You should publish this”