when trees
sway
[unnaturally] up and
down
my mind still speeds straight
to costa rica
and expects little back-and-white monkeys
to be playing
chattering
jumping
from tree to tree
even up here in the bronx
my first thought is never
the black and grey squirrels we have everywhere
my hope
is first
that we’ve somehow found ourselves
back
in paradise…
hammock days
(the relax, not the circus)
under the mosquito net
on top of the shade umbrella
a perfect
Bronx
morning
~~~
it feels weird
writing morning
poems
on a deck
so far from
the regular
place
but fuck it,
it’s
lovely
~~~
the soft netting
weaves
in the breeze
(you don’t need to find any metaphors,
comparisons
or similes
that it is like;
it is just itself)
the bird calls
intermingle
with the spotify playlist
of classical
(or indie)
(or ‘garden music’)
(whatever that means)
and the netting hides us from
the other creatures
who call our yard
home
~~~
is the mosquito netting
hiding us
from the squirrels and birds and other such wildlife
or are the animals simply getting used to our
presence?
(or does it matter
when the morning
is this
damn
gorgeous
?)
~~~
and what of the sun
not shaded
by the umbrella?
(to burn
or not to burn,
that is the question.)
(and sunscreen is
the answer)
figuring out our foundations;
both of us grew up
just outside of a suburban border
(not quite country)
and staying in green
with bugs
and wildlife
and stars and sky
feels so good
but also,
after a year and a half in The City
(The City that Never Sleeps, The Big Apple, The Greatest City in the World)
we can’t imagine living anywhere else.
we would miss the convenience of walking to get everywhere,
an actually useful public transportation system,
the resilience of all the people,
observing those completely unlike you
(and seeing dozens of people exactly like you,
no matter how unique you think you are)
(how quickly New York steals your heart)
made a friend with a cicada
helped it get back on its feet
it became so excited it crawled up my arm
and stared at me while i worked on a digital zine.
made a friend with a cat
(not the cat our host expected to be needy and affectionate)
and she decided my lap was not where the laptop should go,
the lap was where she should be for the rest of the afternoon.
made a friend with another cicada
as it flew full force at my head
and landed on my bright orange hood
and refused to leave until my spouse gently pulled it off
tried to make friends with every lizard who crossed my path
but they clearly had important places to be
so i tried to let them go on their way
(but still i watched them with glaring curiosity)
our dog
is a beach dog
but not an ocean dog
although
she treats the sand like snow,
rolling around in it,
licking it up and eating it,
rolling around some more in order to get out of her eyes that sand from the first roll
and even though we had to pull her away from that joy,
and even though we had to rinse out her eyes so they would stop swelling,
it was worth it to see her jump around like a puppy
(and to see folks’ faces erupt in surprise when we tell them
“this dog is thirteen years old [today]!”)
~~~
i didn’t realize
love languages show up
so early
but damn if that
less-than-two-year-old
didn’t hand off his juice,
and blanket,
and bag of apples
the minute he decided
he liked us.
~~~
arriving home
far too late
making eye contact
with a young buck
as he munches on leaves,
hardly concerned we’re twenty feet away
(as my dog remains frozen with the decision
of whether to chase this creature
as friend or prey)
kipventures 