on the skinny path

take a bite on the sun side c says about the apples we are
picking and then all we hear is
crunching, warm juice crisp bite,
and i have to shield my eyes from the bright
to look at everyone

when i get an immediate burst of grape smell
like juice or sweet
wine
while walking along the forest edge
and looking closer i see the clusters of small fruits fermenting

virginia creeper flushed
beet red and i’m tiptoeing around the
poison ivy leaves peaking out pockets of
yellow,
on the skinny path to the
swimming hole
for the second time in one day

ankle deep

stepping one foot and then

the other
into colder than wanted
water standing on solid rock waiting for the shock to

subside,
almost okay with just going ankle deep,
and also aware of the

possibility for
more
so even if it takes me one minute, or 12,
when I finally submerge my whole being into the river, i let any and all sounds of hollering come out of my mouth into the cold
and for a moment i understand what they were saying last week in meditation class,

chogyam trungpa and that whole idea of gentle
            bravery because now the water is everything i wanted and i don’t see how it could have happened any other way

 

the water shines

watching the steam rise from three mugs of tea on the kitchen counter in the morning of a workday but i am on vacation

peach juice dribbles down my chin near where webber road enters
historic whately and my fingers are sticky so i wipe them on my
shirt before grabbing the handlebars again and srs says this is what i want when i retire and at first i think she means running a peach farm and setting up a stand like the one we’ve come across, which seems like a lot of work for retirement
but then i realize she means biking over back roads in the hills with friends stopping along the way to eat peaches

the way the water shines on the rocks above the dam
glimmering in afternoon light
and i slide into it and submerge myself (just a little bit colder than i would prefer)