51st Avenue NW

a lunch of purple Kool-Aid in a small milk bottle and a sandwich wrapped in paper towel

packed in a produce bag

on the stoop or just inside by the screen door

scrapping nicked panes of orange beads

working on ledges

the cabinets are brown wood    

a yellow haze is wetted and scrubbed through layers of linoleum

beneath we wade through subconscious debris not belonging to present company

we stomp into the grassland where Thursday’s scavenge is prone to photo degradation

there are also gopher holes without gophers

a bin becomes a mountain while the surroundings are combed and trimmed

then more dust before we can get away with less of it

we leave a newly sealed envelope still coated in particles  
Copyright 2024 Sophia Lengle