The land around coaxes out
almonds, apricots, walnuts.
At 3 a.m., the call to irrigate.
We work our fingers to the bone.
We are bone-tired.
C’mon, throw the dog a … .
When sirens scream past,
the next-door dogs respond with all the sorrows
of the world in their voices.
Wind in the ash trees,
snail in the basil,
your hand in mine.
Hot afternoons everything slows.
The air currents, the spin of the …