From the leaders of the Adamah/IF poetry group:
one tree kneels down and puts out roots to form another
crowded with light.
my hand and arm at sunrise, beaming and blue–
where asphalt dissolves into gravel
a jacked-up black truck rumbles past.
inside, the world is lungs and heart and creeping vines.
pine needles fall and vines creep along the edges of the road.
noise of race cars through the distance and heat,
2 turkey vultures circle.
airplane passes over the field
crowded with light: aster, basil, amaranth.
pile of people on the overlook, stop at the top, curious
constellations, eyes on each other, colors in the sky
kale chips and cheap booze, lamplit walk, talk of
how we would survive if we never made it back and
ice cream, twice, twenty chickens in the morning, a visit
from two people I love, small town, permaculture mint,
food fight in the kitchen, saying goodbye, twice,
yellow raincoat, yellow bike, nettle tea, twenty chickens
in the evening a walk with someone I admire,