slab patterned, overturned as sandal

daughter went around corner
as a rock did get swung to back of my hip
for no dropping return

I hear the highway and one hard plastic bottle
my girl's souvenir of voicing
when there was nothing else supposedly...
but to look at numbers kinda like 65 instead of 78

a purple thistle unbroken
compared to plowed
brown land by it
and a stone carried sideways
unstabilized me like climbing through sagebrush

I passed water on via a wet rock
from ditch my youngster couldn't reach
to wash hands so solid trickle came
as juicy lemony wedge for her chia seed cookie to settle on
and I took it back with mud discomfort my turn
unlike any diaper parent weight

from presumed need
to stopping pose for me to sculpt porcelain doll
push that aside for embrace never packed
you do more for my imagination
without having consumer time as some nanny
towards technology with absent team
belonging over blog

hands gesturing near window
pauses as if because of steps
with case curiosity shaping more than shadow puppet Tweet