I went out parting my way through dry meadows.
In a cloud of pollen and pulsating insects.
It gets into my head. Sometimes it makes me wobble.
To physically breathe in that world. Pollen and bugs bits.
And the grasses have yet to bloom.
I have bathed in that cloud my entire life outside.
It's getting into my head.
Pollen and Joe Pye
After all these years in a deciduous rainforest meadow head high.
Like Ironweed
I keep breathing.
The seed head of Ramps slightly blurred from my internal vibration. A life of pollen.
The sun was out before Ida rained.
Topped with Ironweed in shafts of setting sun.
In the purple heat, okra has commenced.
In a flitting cloud thick of bugs and pollen washed in hurricane waters.
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2 comments:
When Ida made her way up here to Ohio, she only brought rain, no storms. But three inches, woohoo!
We got close to 3 inches of rain from Ida along with a strong breeze. There will be some sticks to pick up when things dry off.
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