Sometimes It’s Best Said

ICR — April 13, 2021

Sometimes it’s best said
in a dance
of whethers or nots
where the midday shoots through between
my digging fingers peering
over my shoulder
until it stops as a rogue cloud (a bent sky
shows itself) drifts between
me and the moment
the broken fence post mocks me, even
as my daughter reminds me that
sound is a woodpecker knocking
as my wife reminds me that
my watch doesn’t need more winding
as my son reminds me that
my garden will need more watching
If for no other reason than
he’ll be here to see it and jest

That moment I accidentally shift my
weight to my hands
early pinching the leaf of my
Jalepeno pepper plant against the wet
dirt of interrupting skies
and it
rips —
giving the
sense of a devotional spalling
or that I’m soaked
of rain
that’s not yet falling.