Jul 1
Early summer’s chromatic abundance,
is everywhere,
in wild exuberance;
somewhere there’s a bleak
landscape of grays and browns
that all the bright colors have been
sucked away from and sent here;
all the shades, all the strategies,
to reach towards the sun
luxuriant unfurling
of flower DNA into petals
presenting their organs of generation
to all pollinators,
come up and see me, right now.
Jul 3
Clamoring against the hog wire at the bottom of the herb garden
a forest of daylilies.
Most of the hydrangeas (3 of 5) were burned by the final frost,
but one, spectacularly, was not.
The yellow clusters swell and turn blue by stages.
Cousin of the giant corsage blooms
there’s the nobblier cluster clump variety.
Weeds cut close simulate a lawn and frame
the peripheral plantings and the visitors
(rabbit at 12 o’clock).
The new planters half the way towards
thrillers and spillers and fillers.
Between the leaf canopy and the marigold companions,
five jalapenos growing shoulders.
Pretty is as
pretty is.
Jun 19
walkabout, this afternoon, to find deep red with busy bee,
pale red with kanji characters,
poppy world full of self,
rising from a bed thought lost,
while yellow bush roses,
and blue fingers, which our maidens know by a grosser name,
showing some purple shared, in the same pot
or shared with satiny iridescence
shimmering around a black hole,
in purple waves
and glitter,
while at rows end, marigold companions
and almost a blooming leaf, twinning stacks climb orthogonally towards sun
and a tannish leaf kind of flowerish
all of which have names that are common
and the uncommon names are all scientific
One day, as the stink bug watches,
is enough to blow up a bud.
Everything in such a hurry
to get it done,
whether in the pots
or among the herbs.
But meanwhile in the lawn
the marauder buttercups are special forces,
unchallenged they’ll hand off to
saw-briar and blackberry and locust.
The mower is ordered
which is a little sad for what it will take down
but a lot necessary for what it will allow to come up.
The little entities we favor
cannot stand against the native ferocity
always alert and ready to resume dominion.
They will have it back, and soon enough,
but we shall extend our moment here a little longer.
With all due respect.
Inside the grand circle of mountain ridges, inside the circle of trees that ring the grass, an abundance of pretty little things.
Beneath the ironwood tree, a fungal family up-reach through the ivy.
Marching order.
But at each center of the tanish, beigeish disks, a spot of blue.
Blue, why blue?
Our snake this week was a third the length, a quarter the girth, a fiftieth the mass of last week’s blacksnake.
A little garter garden guarder.
Two foot of pure, well, snake.
Looking both ways, tongue forked and flicking, smelling me.
Forked tongue tiny.
Between the snake and the tomatoes a pile of brush.
What’s not to lich?
Digesting slowly.
Glad to be coral, in full rut; as shameless, if a bit more delicate, than a baboon’s butt.
Gladolia, hereabouts.
Garden guarders, like the garter, may be verygolds.
Don’t stare directly at the fractals.
So nearly stepped on, just inside the kitchen door, a chevron,
an inch and a quarter, weirdly well drafted.
Joan of Arc’s shield?
Not impressive as a flyer, kind of a stumble flutter.
Fearless symmetry.
But eclipses my poor powers.
