Until the pandemic...

How Do Seeds Sprout? | Wonderopolis
Lean Into It


You knew no such thing as fear
In your horse-drawn, stable life
Until the pandemic

Then, the quinoa plants germinated in three days
Sprouts longing toward the window glare
Evolving, ridiculing all doubt

In a park on a hill in a crisis
Stands a man, stark
Aroused by color and chill

You are he, governing the dusk
Considering the color of friendship
The scent of who you were with for twenty-four years

Smile anyway. Disregard the blinking thoughts
Like cop cars at a call
Watch the orange sun decline on the cityscape

A yellow seagull flying overhead
The color of caution signs
Gaze a little more at the sun

Look out from cliffs
Where Chumash boys once stood still
After throwing stones into the surf

I texted my dead friend today
I miss you, Jim, I said
He texted back, I miss you too

Keep in mind yellow sea birds
The orange sun, or how tendrils of quinoa
Lean into it

Lean into it

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