Summer storm in Cat Washington’s backyard always in a magnetic dance, welcome the thunder bow to lightening bathe in turbulent waters
In silence she steps lightly in beat with the tremble of Golden Cosmose, in tune with swollen grapefruit with gloves she trims dead branches, just a few at a time she carries to her shed.
I watch her tend her garden.
She moves lightly but with deep purpose, her face blank. She does not need to smile to feel. The tree, she had to take the bird net off of it earlier in the summer.
“It was suffocating,” she explains.
Backyard Summer Storm
Lucid Dreams 