’94

Tiptoe past the wind

in the early morning

hours.

See that by August God

lopped off the flowers,

weary of blooming

“y el labrador sin horas.”

Watch mulberry leaves

settle on a Sunday

afternoon.

Make humble inquires

as to the where-a – bouts

of the Moon.

08/1994

 

We moved into a family home one summer in June.  It had been neglected and was wildly overgrown with giant weeds and vines.  I worked for days chopping four feet high thorned weeds and hanging on vines to pull them out.  After several months, it was tamed and became the play area for my three children.  I loved it,  especially in the morning when the breezes were active, and the heat from the sun had not yet wilted the air.

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