the whoosh of stillness that comes

the whoosh of stillness
that comes with
sitting on the wooden stool
after getting home from singing
in the drizzling rain, planting garlic, harvesting the last of the cabbages,
pulling out dandelion, mulching the beds, among the other things, with all those good people that came out to
be with me in the

garden

the slight movement of ribcage
(mine)
soft sounds of car tires on wet pavement
and then the clanking of someone putting away dishes downstairs,
remembering that mine are still dirty in the sink
but not giving into the urge to call out
i’ll do those!
and instead just sitting there
noticing the movement of air
with a particular
heaviness
of settling into my skin, holding the vibrations of all of the talking singing event-organizing more talking hugging laughing more singing more event-organizing that i did in the
morning

walking through here

the flock of starlings that make three or four full circles over my head just as the sun is going down in the parking lot near the mill river and that weird power station. all of the birds are turning at the same time, and as they move their wings in unison, I can hear the flapping above me like heartbeats

the candy wrappers –
milky way
and twizzler
that I find on the street in between fallen
leaves,
remnants of the fairies and goblins and ninja warriors and tiny princesses and lionesses and butterflies and harry potters and ginny weasleys and baby whales and robot monsters that came walking through here on tuesday