9/11/2023

On crackled concrete sidewalks,

sprinklers alternate watering brick,

curated clumps of foliage,

and the feet of pedestrians.

9/22/2023

How similar a ring and a broken

off pop-tab look when the

former is sought out in the

thin crevices of the sidewalk.

9/23/2023

this afternoon I wake to taps of rain

trailing down windows

because fluffy clouds held the sun tight,

letting me sleep through morning.

9/25/2023

The sign says,

"Please do not water the plants.

They are watered on a specific schedule."

Drooped leaves beg for a repotting schedule.

9/26/2023

Rugby practice on turf hurts.

You miss the mud when

after a tackle in the rain,

you get stung with fake grass

and wet rubber bits

9/27/2023

I was thinking,

If we played the floor is lava,

stepping on grass but not concrete--

I'd be an Olympic long jumper

9/28/2023

I thought the full moon highlighted

your face, walking back home.

But it was only field lights,

reflecting in clouds like smog

above us.

9/29/2023

Seeing a chihuahua trample chest deep

in the fertilized green tells me

someone may appreciate

the strict mowing schedule

9/30/2023

A single closed road tonight

blocks the on-ramp from all directions

increasing our eta by an hour--

distance unaffected

10/1/2023

I spy a single blazing branch of leaves

on a tree otherwise in great health.

Must be celebrating autumnal equinox.

10/2/2023

A small tub of Vaseline,

displaced from its lid

(found 15 feet down the sidewalk)

lays abandoned on the grass

moisturizing nothing.

10/3/2023

I only fell asleep as night let in early morning.

But the bird sang bright and sharp on the sill,

unaware of my fatigue.

10/4/2023

crisp leaves whirl, skirting on the path

until they hit a garish mesh net

"protecting" nature from construction

(and everything else.)

10/5/2023

If you shake a queenless bee hive,

a worker, laying useless drone eggs

to mimic the queen,

crawls back home slowest.

An easy kill.

10/6/2023

The sparrow lands on the trashcan

peers in, and looks at me--

disgusted, disgruntled,

demanding a proper snack

namely: my pretzels.

10/7/2023

I hear the mockingbird

clear through my headphones,

getting my attention better

than essays and endless reading ever could

10/8/2023

I wondered why the bench was empty

and sat gratefully

until sunlight escaped the clouds

launching a full force attack at me.

10/10/2023

A nice outdoor lunch becomes

lonesome crumbs becomes

the afternoon snack of the sparrow,

digging his beak into

cracks and crevices.

10/17/2023

as I pass by the trash

a movement in the corner of my eye

makes me pause

in time for the squirrel to propel out

limbs splayed.

10/18/2023

They fiddle with sun-soaked pebbles,

clacking together like mancala and

as they contemplate their stress,

it's transferred into sound