April 17, 2024

birds
distract
from writing
from trying
to get to know
the inside of my own head

maybe
they’re saying
‘get to know the earth
and the universe
first,
for “you” are just one part
of all’

February 10, 2023

sunflowers
are my favorite flower.
something about the big, bright, open yellow
captivates me
and makes me
(almost always slightly secretly dour)
smile so huge.

i often forget that half of the flower is brown,
the earth/
the base of nature/
it wouldn’t be a sunflower without that circle of non-yellow;
the seeds to form new flowers in the future
the giving after giving
of joy/
of new life/
of another kind of open-ness.

i know it’s a bit toxic
to constantly give,
but take it from the sunflower:
sometimes giving gives us our own beauty.

January 18, 2023

seeing the swarm sully the skies
grackle cries
another super-group
giant roost
all of them
re-creating that film The Birds
(which i’ve never seen, but i know there’s a giant swarm
of silken-black birds
and there they were
ripe for the simile)
so close we could hear their wings flap
so close we could see their heads shine blue
so close the dog assumed she could grab one or two
so close they felt ominous
but also magnificent
what an honor
to be greeted this day
by the only time the grackles fly together
wintertime
and look for grub
in our messy
yard

go ahead and hop up and down the path
you’re sweeping the leaves for us;
thanks!

January 9, 2023

i am far away from my native lands
both in space
and in time

but i am native to the Earth
and i do have a land that raised me
that moulded me
as i trudged and trotted along
creeks
and fields
and farms
and forests
paying little to no attention
to human intervention
but instead lost in my own imagination
speaking for two, three, five, ten at a time
plays and stories and series in my mind
and the dirt never betrayed me
and the insects never bit more than i could handle
and the animals provided distraction
when i hit an imaginary interpersonal problem
and everything i saw/heard/touched/tasted/smelled
informed my curiosity
and invited me back
day
after
week
after
month
after
season
after
year

i wish i could go back today
but i don’t know how it’s changed
and i’m scared of feeling betrayed
by my own damn species
(or having it seem exactly the same,
and overwhelmed by how much
i’ve changed)

but

i’ve taken on this land
as my new home
and learning as i am
about kinship and the land and more-than-human persons
i’d like to care for this portion of the Earth
as the Earth
once cared
for me

December 11, 2022

the more i read and research
the kinship worldview
the more i think i might not have been that crazy
when i spoke with that thunderstorm
when i feel like the trees are waving to me in the breeze
and it’s not like the selfish feelings i get
when i ponder an omniscient god
what would one entity do for me?
why would one entity do/
pay attention to/
contemplate
me?
but a single tree when i am the only one around?
a storm passing by and sticking around long enough for a conversation
even if they add up to one universe
i feel connection with the pieces
and maybe that’s how i
connect
with the energy
around me
(and maybe that’s how
i’ll forgive my
younger transgressions
when i was simply asking for attention
from the only beings around me—
—the planet)

March 20, 2022

New York City
is giving us
a true
spring!

(for the first time
in years)

yes, we were here in
Brooklyn
for two springs in a row,
but you’ve got to admit
the spring of
2020
was a little more surrealistic
than springtime
in terms of
~everything~
and please, Brooklyn, forgive us
for only observing
your brick walls
consistently
and so rarely entering
the park five minutes away

and before that,
Wisconsin,
with its approximate
two days of spring
(slightly more if you count
‘muddy’
as the season)
and half the time
snow would hit
full force
months after
we thought
spring was finally upon us
(and the next day
the blistering heat
of a midwest summer)

but here
in our own yard
we’ve seen the green
pop up from the ground
and even the days were a little snow
sprinkled the earth
the buds didn’t give up
they kept up
popped out
now, not just green,
we have purple, yellow, white,
black bumble bees buzzing
(a veritable enby flag of a backyard)

and we’ve eaten breakfasts,
had coffee,
made calls,
read,
worked,
watched,
on a deck that overlooks it all

and we breathe it in
slowing down
soaking it up
like the sun

A Bronx Spring.

September 3 (part 2)

nature:
turkeys
sleeping bees
talk of ticks
pine cones
sandstone
and
sunlight
and shade
and everywhere in between
broken branches
stampeeded weeds
dewy wet grass
and the great expanse of sky and clouds

not nature:
massive amounts of coffee
protein bars
pink and purple hair dye
tiktoks and youtubes to pass the time
plastic bottle spray paint art projects
frozen twix bars
zoom workouts
and online ordered Indian food

mix the two
and you have a solid foundation
for a much-needed mini-vacation
[with the fam]

September 2, 2021

there was a moment,
a whole slew of moments,
a good month or so,
when everyone was staying indoors
trying desperately
to stop the spread,
and magic occurred:
the air cleared of smog
and wildlife returned to where it hadn’t been seen
for ages
and nature began reclaiming
her[/their] right to this earth…

and for a pessimist such as myself,
this brought a huge abundance of joy to my heart;
i’d like nothing more than to save this planet,
give each creature on this earth the right and respect to this land
as we once had
[yes, i am including us in that we]
[though we being humanity, probably/possibly not we being my particular race]
to actually be as equal as nature created us
but…
if we really have been as terrible for this planet
as i expect
and we do in fact go through a mass-extinction event
[moreso than we are going through now]
it brings comfort to my heart that nature can reclaim
so quickly
so easily…
i still worry about each individual bird and dolphin and seedling
[and human being]
but it comforts me a little
to know that, as a whole
maybe we haven’t made such an
unerasable
footprint.

September 1, 2021 (part 2)

i feel
as though
i am the observer
the storyteller
the tie-togetherer
when it comes to global climate change;
i travel
and watch
and observe
and i see the Bronx flooding
and Brooklyn flooding
and then i travel away
from the concrete and subway tunnels and solid architecture
to the malleable lands
hills and valleys and mountains
of Pennsylvania
and i see the flooding of that countryside
ditches
becoming creeks
becoming rivers
becoming flooding alerts all over the roads
every hour or two another alert in on my phone
knowing it’s the aftereffects of a hurricane
and seeing watch-warnings for tornados
seeing the sky go dusk-dark at 1pm
and open up, finally, to the brightness
of 6pm
as we drive out of the stormclouds
heading where we had been…

i am aware that nature is unpredictable
and that storms like these often happen in a lifetime
but i’ve now lived directly through at least three ‘one in a lifetime’ storms
(and watched probably 20 others from afar)
and i am
worried.

September 1, 2021

uncertainty
turned excitement
turned apprehension
turned…who knows

at least i’m still in
‘go with the flow’
mode.

~~~

the rain pouring
feels apocalyptic
though no such apocalypse has yet to take hold onto a whole nation
just whole communities,
whole cities,
whole states…
[or are we simply feeling immune
because our whole country
is so damn huge?]

~~~

quick and dirty
morning poems
so i have time
to get quick clean
before heading out
not away from the storm
but deeper into
(solely for the sake
of dogs
and nature
and family)