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the lagoon, water brown and murky, clinging to every hair as i emerge
daylilies, blooming bright orange and friendly
dirt, on the back of every child’s neck, resisting a shower one more day
mildew, warm and welcoming, the sharp smell penetrating my lungs as i race through the lodge
every other protruding branch, we slowly feel our way back to our cabin in the dark
the spinning wheel, layers of crusted clay chipping off into my grimy hands
the pungent dust, kicked up by the fraz players, finding my eyes, nose and mouth
the water, the purest water i have ever swallowed, right from the ground
yells of joy as the last two ga ga ga players have it out in the ring
the click clack of plastic plates as i carry a stack and set them down in the low cupboards, the top few falling to the floor.
safe

treaty

we each have a section of
what we can see
what we can know
each is our own
twisted
refuse to sign
that treaty of less than and greater than
note to the editor:
banish tradition

a season for you

each of the freckles stands out on his face

brown

coming from somewhere

summer

soft, brown summer

the yellow peace smoothing it down

living green

enter: breathing heavy

dry air

eating my. yours. his.

lungs

wet feet and bright, cool air

we mean everything we say