Interminable
patch of dirty straw. Then,
when we forget to notice, when
scrutinies lapse, green’s sprung. Oak, maple
have
nothing on this, the principle beauty
of loam. Slender. Brave
and countless. They thicken, become sturdy
multitudes. Rolling cool beneath a deck,
a hammock,
fence
to chain link fence.
So we learn the earth unfolds for us, can
shimmer with health under our care. Afternoons left
alone with your shoulders, tan
neck in sunlight, a shovel’s heft.
Shovel. Rake. Roller. Plumes
of water: your thumb on a hose. Bats
rise, fall nightly in soft formations, consume
what could ever irk us. New worlds, habitats
form beneath the kiddie pool
forgotten in the shade. It cools, it will cool
you in its red and yellow shallows,
inflated fat and shiny as my breath allows.
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