“What I Did On Vacation This Week”


Hafta yald*, half-on

into the vale of topped trees

I stride, pickin’ up!

 

  • (Yep. What the letter looks like to me “yald” in the first line.  Makes more sense than “yard,” one suspects.  So in it stays.  Picking up the debris – mostly limb, branch, stem and left litter from Hurricane Irma – and yes, I am wearing snakeboots and shorts with a nice floppy breeze-happy hat betwixt radio, book, water, and writing, gradually I line the two-street boundaries of the yard with knee- and man-high piles awaiting pickup which may take six hours, six days or six weeks.  Bet the over.)

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