is in good form
The teriyaki meatballs had fallen all over the floor already
“I’m still hungry though,” she said,
a deep well inside justified
In good form. Talk to trees in the morning
Just be still and clean.
throwing words to the wind…
20 minutes in the shed.
Clean your house
to your house. mop up insides introspect in my pocket,
mop up with bales of hey
hey, to the galaxy
earth days…. months …. years she had a fantasy
in her shell
all over the school
Must get stronger inside
or she might lose her job, and everything she cares about.
clear puddles, because disaster switches forms.
Put your dreams away under covers
Hold right there.
she wasn’t sprinting
she stayed perfectly still, each day
Nobody knows how the story ends down on earth.
Forget about it. . . . might leave a trail.
Bless this day
and all that is hungry
all that lives
Bless this morning
And whatever else
Writing for awhile in the shed …
Kids like to roller skate on the driveway
The smallest little chicken in the coop had died yesterday, bullied to death by the larger birds, likely more aggressive given it’s the winter and they are caged more than usual.
The carcass was dragged down the driveway last night. this morning a long red plume …
probably a hawk, or cat, or some predator.
She is hosing off the driveway half of the morning, hose and sweep, hose and sweep … the bright red guts stick, a big pool of dirty water collects. Five times, six times, walking and listening
The bigger hens are already pecking the next one down the chain on the back of the neck. natural order. it will be the end of her hen experiment.
November, December, January, February, March, April, repeat.