a thin reserved and bespeckled English lady I met for the second time today at Poetry Rock who I believe has slipped away with more copies of my poems than anyone else who I also believe believes if you’re kind to the world

nine koi and goldfish will slowly fin as you trim the lily pads, admire their flowers, pull algae, fill the fish feeder, backwash the filter and gather the fallen - leaves palm tree husks and other wind-blown debris scattered in the pool, pond, yard be vigilant in the seasons- summer’s ripening mangoes winter’s limes and oranges pomegranates in the fall it would be best if you were a person who likes to putter but if you are a poet, perhaps ignore some of those sugges

July, they’re here for the heat, a body bake, an oven wrap their bones still bearing the chill of winter, wanting to thaw while the locals flee the mid-day sun these sledders, ice fisherman snow scrappers, blizzard babies are storing heat in the rivers of marrow in their bodies when one steps out of a car I ask, how you like the weather? It’s just like ours’ in Phoenix, but we rented this car and came here to spend the Fourth with my mom and dad and I say Oh, right.