I’m going to havean indoor plant sale.Since 2011, the atriumand attached mini-greenhouse have guar-anteed that no house-plant will ever die.Not only that, each sproutand leaf has multipliedinto a Michigan jungleof jade, succulents,spider plants, ferns — plus grapefruit and avocado trees! They thrive in ourcare, but fly they must,fledged from their home.

I’mwriting you this tear-shapedpoem to show that I’m crying about the oldEnbridge oil pipeline 5 that runs under The Straits of Mackinac, that pumps black death through fresh water, sepa-rated from catastrophe by grace. Enbridge’s take?Build a harbinger on bottom of lake.

Late night talk show hostsmake jokes, let masses ventat each day’s madness.But their cruel slightson POTUS unveiled uglinessthat even Colbert & Stewart,the best of the best,are corporate overlord-paidhacks.(a sad day in USA)

So many thoughts cavort,yet this morning few wishto volunteer to tumble outline up in any orderly fashionfrom realm of pinballsand distraction.As usual, I use nature as bait.Look! The sulfur cosmosis in full bloom!Now wait. They line up onto the blank slate.

Summer BreezeSulfur cosmos dance,little suns in themselves,on thick stems, feathery leaves.Cottonwood leaves flip, frantic,flashing silver, like water in sky.Apple tree boughs bob gently,laden with wormy fruit.Cardinals trapeze, tree to feeder.The cats and I, cool inside, respitefrom blaze blasting life outside.

Pisces HeartWe’re at Lake Michigan today.Weather forecasted rightlycloudy and 80. The spot is Duck Lake channel, shallowand connects to the big lake,warm water, toddler waist deep.Granddaughter climbs inflatable(inland freshwater) sea turtle.Big lake ices me to dead goose fleshwhile kids and grandkid splash warm.I could be skinnier, younger, moreat peace, but today can’t get any better.

Bluejays are calling this morning.Cicadas also sound in summer.Cicadas call at its zenith,jays in its wind-down.Cicadas have no tree preferencethat I know of, but jays like oak.At my old place with its oaks,perhaps ripening acornsget them hungry, impatient; yet there are no oaks here.Whatever their reason, calling jaysremind me of home.