Field Notes on a Journey into Suburban Woods to Retrieve a Lost Basketball
Honeysuckle blooms and wild white daisies.
Benign, but greedy, vines.
Remind me, what does poison ivy look like?
A soiled plastic bottle
in the middle of a glen.
I could see myself lying on the ground here,
finding the sky between the leaves
and wondering at the meaning of life.
Remember, the answer is always C.
I’d like to climb the tree over yonder.
I’ll settle for a free throw in the net.
Dodge the trio of jagged green,
Shaq-branded ball in hand.
We are out of the woods.
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What an intriguing journey! Well done, Katrina.