loose at lunch

we learn
that the dog’s name is rita, and that she has gotten loose at lunch
as k and I are
sitting in the communal eating area on the third
floor of the old industry building that’s been converted into offices, trying to have a meeting about past conferences and future seed swaps, and
rita’s owner (presumably) chases the group of homeschool kids away from the long table so she can eat
lunch at her (presumably) regular spot,
so I ask her (rita’s owner) about what she does in the building (silk screen printing) and rita starts hacking up a cough under the table
and then all of the rest of the silk-screen-printers come to join her for lunch (or I don’t know who else they could be)
and it becomes suddenly impossible for k and I to continue our meeting, between the silk screeners
and the coughing dog
and the homeschool kids exiled to read their book in a different corner of the hallway so we retreat back to the office to continue talking about seeds somewhere else.

taste of a wild

the plastic bouquet of flowers i see in the trash, and leave there

light, the color of beach sand, that glows orange and pink at around four thirty in the afternoon

the taste of a wild rose hip, something like watermelon candy mixed with lemon and the smell of petals that lands on my tongue as i suck out the flavor from the tiny fruit as i’m walking home along the river.