Dusk.
A hummingbird drinks
red salvia
as sparrows flit
from their high-wire act
into a robe of trees.
Cats sit
like redwood burls at the end
of my couch.
The long yawning prepares for night.
Daylight shows up.
Fog lifts
summer peacock
feathers fan green and blue
over the water
until
routine throws a switch
and I'm back.
Sometimes I wish
I could shake out politics and money
from the daily wash.
A fistful of licorice twists
a pot of purple basil.
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