the
pacific northwest is a liminal place and nothing
says liminal like looking up from peeing on the
compost pile to see the sky fade blue to grey, fog
fringeing through the woods, ancient echoes
quivering tips of tree branches striving ever
upward. ripples of energy overlap here--the vast
relentless ocean, the sun's wide arc from solstice
to solstice, the grinding plates of tectonic forces
underfoot, the culture exchange of a migrant port,
and a history of conquest so fresh you can almost
smell it. i zipped up and went back to helping sarah
dismantle and rebuild the
hugel garden out front, carefully
transplanting raspberries from last year that have
run wild, already leafing out, fluffy dirt dank as
cake. found a worm thick as my pinky and uncovered
another that stood up straight a good 2 inches,
straining towards the sun. i swear i saw it smile.
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