Yet another day I don't want to forget.
Morning: gentle suckle, giggles and snuggle.
The drinking of coffee (it never gets old)
the chopping of squash, beets and assorted fruits.
Packing bottles, sun block, two-seat stroller
a dog water bowl, and lots of snacks.
It only took us an hour and a half to get out of the house
this time. Glory.
stop at the local community garden
where two green thumbs taught us
where to look
and how to pick
green beans and cucumber
from the big prickly leaves
that look like lilly pads.
A stop at church to rehydrate.
What else is church for? Ask me tomorrow.
On to the farmer's market
where it suddenly dawns on us
that neighborhoods have brains
which sparks a conversation
about quantum entanglement, colonialism and sperm.
When am I not obsessed with sperm?
We buy cashews and tomatillos.
An old white dude tells a dirty joke to J.R.
and I laugh in an obligatory way.
I practice my sorry ass spanish with Arturo and Josephina
who are gracious enough not to shame my efforts.
Then off to Mill Race Park
where pups sniff, babes play,
birds make nests in amateurish sculptures
and waterfalls gush with cereal city pride.
There are marigolds and petunias
so vibrant it causes acute beauty zings
to erupt in your heart chakra before you can blink.
The linear path, a dog pound and medicinal marijuana clinic collide.
It's the North side.
A quick jog home.
Hot as hell; we're all sweating
so Joey pulls out the popsicles
before nap time.
A belated birthday boquet from grandma rests on the porch.
A congregant/ally comes over for care;
we breathe and laugh and make sacred each other's company
over a tuna sandwich, journal and beets with hummus.
A beloved friend drops off some home-made chai concentrate.
I mix it with milk, pull out Logan's home-made apple sauce from last week.
Mason jars are a staple of the midwest.
Love gets packed in glass and topped with tin here
like love gets expressed on the dance floor everywhere else.
Sweetness of the senses--
What a perfect way
to spend a summer saturday.