The Sisters

these are the only trees that I didn’t plant here that I have named when I look out my front window they are the first things I see the space between them is a powerful portal that I have stacked with stones for the time being to protect myself and the Animal Gods with whom I live it is the space through which Little Bear disappeared that terrible night I want to wind pink satin ribbon around them both in the infinity symbol but satin is hard to come by these days and it takes a lot of ribbon to bypass a portal in fact ribbon itself can easily be a portal

my son is going in and out of the house working on his truck preparing for his trip to eastern Washington on Friday his father needs him too but he’s feeling wary about the trip and honestly I am going to be lost without him at least the state park is open today though the trails are closed for now but I can go stand in the old growth trees and breathe and see the Saratoga Passage and breathe

we went back down to the beach a few minutes ago and sang Brown Eyed Girl together sha la la la la la la la la la la la la la te da and marveled at the way fresh cut grass smells during high tide and tried not to think about the plague or my messy emotional state then we saw a picnic table full of noisy flag waving patriots from multiple families eating together with their ugly Amerikkkan bumper stickers and that new Amerikkkan stance that come at me bro look

I had a surplus of blueberries this week and made blueberry crisp that was too sweet by far but that’s what I had for dinner

there’s an Anna’s hummingbird that has been visiting the feeder in the front of the house she drinks then she moves a foot away and stares at me through the window then she flips me off

my blueberries are doing well and my tomatoes and sugar snap peas and double peony are going gang busters no sign of the runner bean though I planted 50,000 wildflowers out into the forest the wrens can have the those weird little hoppers or they might catch and surprise me when they grow

I wonder what I’ll do when Page leaves will I be industrious or dreamy maybe I should give myself a plan I really should work on my book which I have ignored now for weeks as the entire world seems stuck maybe I should make a mask out of the fabric with my poem Love Letter to the Whores on Aurora Avenue printed on it but instead I’ll probably bake a complicated bread that takes all day then eat it while it’s still warm or make a puff pastry or maybe I’ll finally teach myself how to make risotto because I have mushrooms I think in the guts of my fridge

I’m going to enjoy this here thunderstorm