First Draft 001

there’s a puddle on the side of the road
a scorched earth of midsummer
cracked soil releases little workers
     told to collect
          to weld soil back together
go to the lakes
dip into streams
watch the clouds
twist the cap off the bottle

little workers march off towards mirages
     never arriving
but hope carries them
and their needles, tubes, pumps, drums

some flowers and grasses still dance
     together
water sloshing in cells
chlorophyll radiating and creating
a cool microcosm of belonging

there's a puddle on the side of the road
little workers stare into their own eyes
     though blind to themselves
hiding in reflections
     of oceans of clouds
          of worlds of clouds

there's a puddle on the side of the road
and in it
flowers and grasses still dance
tadpoles and fairy shrimp grow hastily
seeds and tubers wait patiently
knowing the oceans of clouds
     the worlds of clouds
will become their own

little workers plunge fingers and toes
thunder ripples around them
like the puddle on the side of the road
rain begins and the soil sighs
     closing cracks

little workers slide down flowers and grasses
to dance with tadpoles and fairy shrimp
a shared feast of seeds and tubers
they speak of where they've been
     the joy
          the calm
               the belonging
where they now soak within

the rain will stop
and the cracks will slowly expand
but there will remain

amanda ca. 2025

a puddle on the side of the road