day 5

learn that marigolds keep insects away, and asiatic dayflowers are considered weeds. ran a spear tipped like a flat-head screwdriver through the crevices of the driveway and power-washed. dogs barking maniacally through the door at the stream of water. let them out. feifei on hind legs. seph biting at the water and yelping from the pain, only to compulsively return for the punishment of the next jet stream. herd the dogs back into the mud room. on hands and knees, fingers in crevices, knuckles rubbing raw on the stone. small holes in the fingertips of the gardening gloves. find a small bat body decomposing on a drain, sweet rot mixing with the sharp scent of uprooted weeds. cover the body with some dirt & scoop the maggot-home into my gloved hand. feel the worms moving on my palm as i walk them to the grove where i placed the live bat two days ago. back to the weeds. remember the reflective hesitance with which i pulled them on a cloudy afternoon a few days ago. replaced with a frantic urgency under the baking sun. every timid spot of green a gordian knot upon which to prove the stubborn spear of my perseverance. “it don’t have to be perfect,” j quips as he walks past. but it does, i think back loudly, hacking at roots. it’s about me now. i work as if it’s my last chance and the restored order will last forever. as if a battle against the weeds could be won. power-wash the stones from their cover of black dirt to a substratum of green moss and finally to a speckled whiteness that dims as waters dry and dirts resettle. finally call it quits as the shadows begin to lengthen, fingers numb and weak, a third of the stone path around the house still to go. sit on the wooden slats of an untethered flatbed truck and observe the cows, trees filtering the late-afternoon sun. bessie keeps chasing the small white heifer away from the tub of corn. so the new cow waits until the others finish before approaching, thin cow tail wagging alone. walk back to the house & take a bath. m scolds me for doing too much. j starts a fire. a brings bourbon. s requests more spanish songs. we sit round the flames beneath the night sky aglow with the half circle of a waxing moon.