strolling tender_square two bunnies shake their white butts as they bound through broad blades of damp grass. overhead, a jet airliner throttles forth, rubbing wings with wind waves, its roar stretching like a dramatic yawn. two doors down, a frost-tailed squirrel rappels an oak and stops, permitting me to photograph its preternatural floof with chilled hands. crows idle in the baseball diamond at scheffler park, discussing defensive substitution strategy. a notice tied around an electrical pole says baby the black cat is missing, and call susan if found. i continue west, with the sunrise at my back, along the sidewalks sweating sprinkler spray. in the stone circle of county farm’s entrance, i see he was already here, the signature “king” printed in green chalk. overnight, racoons tilted trashcan tops in the picnic area, searching for spoils. while they crept, i slept and dreamt a troll woman hovered nearby as i walked cedarview, my childhood street; she spoke in gibberish, conveying a message i couldn’t decipher, and i gave her a wide berth. now, i turn foliaged corners in a place that isn’t home hoping to catch sight of her, to ask what she knows. two robins flit into a shaded thicket with secret song. i sidestep volcanic ant mounds on high-traffic trails and destroy the gossamer bridges spiders have spun between trees. i say hi to an older man who struggles with earbuds in the parking lot, but we’re on different paths. and i wish that i’d taken my headphones, to listen to my lover’s serenade as i stroll, but i’m a woman alone, alert. the men walk their dogs or their dogs walk them. my mouth cakes with dryness and i spit out of thirst. 220610 ... tender_square three cars hurry on platt and refuse to be sunday drivers, accelerating through the road’s the rising curve at 6 am to steer into sunrise. a black suv with tinted windows idles in the park’s parking lot, and i’m briefly embarrassed for having scratched my crotch as i crossed the street. on the main path, i bend to pick up a sidewalk_note and find it’s an envelope for hybrid single-stem sunflowers, produced by “johnny’s selected seeds” (“an employee owned company”). i count 24 inside, one for every year we’ve been on the periphery of each other’s lives. in the wooded embrace of the fitness trail, i say hello to an older woman in square-rimmed glasses. further up, an older man donning sweatbands jogs by and gives a breathless ‘hi.’ my pace is slower than usual, but i ascend the hill with little effort, only realizing i’ve climbed it after reaching summit. a backyard dog gives a few guttural woofs at what he can’t see. a tree holds the handles of a plastic bag around its arm like wet laundry. baby bunnies brush against the meadow’s edges, taking leave with my footsteps. at the exit, i cross paths with bill_and_maggie, and we introduce ourselves. i rub maggie’s soft, blonde fur with my hand and she offers her belly, so pleased to meet a new friend. i am too. 220612 ... tender_square a crow waddles across the empty parking lot. the drainage ditch is surprisingly sparse after yesterday’s rain. i rub the ridges of my fingertips against the whorls of a wooden owl for luck. a man stands behind a picnic table tending to a black bag, worming knuckles through knots. three small bunnies shift from the path in succession, closer to the orbit of their protective mother guarding in the grass. my steps crush stone, a sound that sends robins reeling into treetops. the carcass of a lime balloon collapses near a puddle and i imagine it blown full of fire, suspended with a wicker basket carrying two wandering squirrels. the paths are interspersed with people in the early hours, and i weave through thickets of narrow shortcuts to be alone. i take a selfie in sunlight and my skin pulls pumpkin, a man running by startles me as i’m deleting what i’ve done. 220702 ... tender_square it’s too hot to keep a hoodie on but mosquitos banquet on my bare skin otherwise. for two days, my body woke me later than required; i missed sunday’s stroll, and rushed through monday’s circuit. today, i am out the door at 6:20, and the cotton-mouthed sky delays dawn. currents of overhead argon and neon jaundice the grey. on a corner, two skunks wave striped propellers above velvetleaf and quackgrass. men push deep into thickets bordering mallets creek with buckets for berry-plucking, fingers stained with anthocyanins. at an electrical box outside the united way, a robin lies inert and rigid, speckled feathers ruffling. a new notice is posted for bella the missing cat who is “desperately missed.” county farm park is utterly empty, mine alone to claim. last night’s rain tickles my cheeks, released by sodden leaves shaking dry. a crinkle of metal makes me look over my shoulder; a woman hikes with her dog, some ten paces back. i stiffen, slow my speed in hopes they pass. (they don’t.) i push deeper into barton woods, the trail tarred with mud and feathered with pollen. the humidity hangs in gauzy drapes i cannot part. at the trail’s end, i hop onto the balance beam and hold my wingspan out, lift my chin, and place one foot in front of the other without looking where they’ll land. 220705 ... tender_square a park employee is out early, gunning gas on the riding mower, shaving the medians before cars restrict the swivel and pirouette of its heavy body. “be safe,” i call to a baby bunny grazing nearby, not yet grown to fear what threatens. a sinewy woman sprints past me and stops at the drinking fountain, lifts her shirt to make a towel for her slipping face. the garbage lids lie on the grass like discarded frisbees. a wildflower patch abutting the community garden is an emerald heap of shoots and stems, leaves and petals, razed to roots. a robin flies after a cabbage white butterfly, beak grasping at wing flutter, before it gives up and retires to a crab-apple tree. last night’s furtive rainfall left diamonds of dew, a mist sizzling above the meadow as dawn catches crystal. i slip in a slick of mud. centenarian trees shake their sweat onto my skin and i swat at the sensation of mosquitos tapping into my veins. in my ears, he sings, “no desire to run from past mistakes; i’ve no ambition if this is all that it takes.” i submit myself to the path ahead i cannot see, chopping down the old blood, old blood tree. 220722 ... tender_square a bulky suv is parked askew in the shit lot for sheffler park, near bushes obscuring it from the street, like it’s been there all night. i move quickly and choose not to stare in case the occupant is sleeping or shooting heroin; i’d rather not know the underbelly of my neighbourhood. as i turn my head, the beat of wings shifts my gaze to six black voiceless crows overhead. i cross the creek that bisects the park and squint at a massive charcoal lump on the basketball court—a person bundled in a sleeping bag, on a mattress of coarse pavement, dozing to the accelerations of a busy street. the rattle_and_hum of a city bus, of a transport truck carrying fuel shake the city into reluctant waking. britton forest envelopes me like a lover, brushing cool kisses across my cheeks. beyond, the churn of train wheels compete with arias of chickadees and bluebirds. i catch a gopher scramble with the dexterity and speed of a squirrel up an oak. unseen creatures shuffle through leaf litter, vying for a closer look of me or safety from my steps. 220729 ... tender_square humidity’s mugginess presses into my pores. the pearly sky keeps car headlights streaking down tecumseh though it’s morning, and i am a doe, ducking to dart through traffic and reach the other side. my house key jangles against my glutes in a satchel slung, a tambourine to every beat of breath and step. in the three weeks since i was last here, concrete was poured for the absent slabs that had been dug by city_workers in front of the first house i ever lived in. crabgrass and plantain pop-up in patches of dirt that likely won’t sprout grass this season. a man pulls his empty recycling bin back to his porch. i study the decrepit convenience store at george and milloy certain of its familiarity; the sisters i no longer speak with pushed me there as a toddler in my stroller. i nudge a fallen nest seen_on_the_sidewalk with my toe; no signs of life or injury. at the test track, fog settles over the soccer fields while seagulls spread their teams across the pitch. in my ears he sings, “tonight our collective breath is frozen” as their inertia gives way to flight. city_workers have been here too; clumps of trees bear a battlefield of limbs stacked and so aged their leaves are dust. a man in suspenders sits at a picnic table alone. i stop and scratch behind my left knee where two red circles spread the saliva of an insect that siphoned my blood. i come to rest on a sweaty bench where my love has been carved into wood. and i wait. 220805 ... tender_square he warned me about the weather the night before. but i couldn’t go two days without. the morning sky was charcoal blotting dawn. the forecast said spitting, thunderstorms expected in thirty minutes. i didn’t want to risk the window with walking to the park, so i drove, my temporary paper license tucked into my shoulder satchel. it could have very well been sunday; the paths were deserted. in the forest, the canopy was so dense what little light there was couldn’t penetrate the negative space, my vision fuzzing to changes in contrast. i kept my gaze down so i wouldn’t snag myself on what i couldn’t see. a spider’s web ensnared me, thick silk strands invisible to my fingers frantic brush. then, the downpour striking a billion leaf skins. the rush rose up around me like applause. what’s scarier—knowing you could be struck dead by an electrostatic discharge, or that he may be prepared to move with you for the reasons of his own escape? 220808 ... tender_square the ground’s dark, holds overnight rainfall in its pores. streets barren until i arrive on edgewood; a couple walks west, softly conversing, and i become perturbed; this is supposed to be my empty morning and they’re ruining it. i hoof it through scheffler park, cast a casual glance over my shoulder as i cross the wet bridge—they travel the same route. two cars turn left on a red while i push a silver button and wait for a lighted man to grant me temporary safety from speed. across platt, i snap a picture of the soft pink clouds, notice the couple pass the creek. my pace quickens. a woman walking south veers into the bike lane as we pass each other, even though i leave her a wide enough berth on the sidewalk to share. i reach the deserted lot at county farm; the couple gains ground and i don’t know their destination. i jog a desperate diagonal to the gate, widening the distance, and the inner path gives me asylum. as i near the tagged red trail, a man’s aggressive voice carries through marsh and i stiffen. was it a cyclist cursing someone on washtenaw? this solitude both emboldens and terrifies. birds rustle in the treetops, turning me edgy. i nudge a fallen nest with my toe and say aloud to no one, “oh shit! that’s a bunny.” i emerge from britton forest warmer than i was, my chilled ears softening. i stop for bill and millie and he conveys how excited he is that i get to go home for a week. at the construction site, the mountain of dirt beckons. i tuck my pant legs into my runners as i drop into the field, hiking around the crown of a huge severed tree, leaves tinted rust, and i follow caterpillar tracks made by bulldozer. the soot peaks run higher than the plateau, but the dirt is loose there and i don’t trust that i won’t slip six-feet through. it’s a shame that the vantage point doesn’t feel as satisfying as i expected. 220814 ... tender_square two territorial cats scatter as i step through the door, continuing their antagonistic encounter on the boulevard. fresh sod checkerboard squares dress up the cosmetic surgery done to curbs and roadways. a lime green hose slithers across the sidewalk to spew in sewer. i press my fingers against symbols my house key slashed into wood weeks ago. radiation fog sheets the soccer fields in the thickness of clouds; my body soars as my feet pound pavement. water particulate sticks to my leggings, a ten-degree difference i can’t capture as digital image. a man walks into the center of it all and vanishes. a jumbo jet climbs the cobalt sky with the half-moon at its tail. twenty sprinklers perform a synchronized swivel in unobscured sun that i watch transfixed through chain-link fence. sunburst reveals the crisscross of threads in the grove; a black squirrel bounces through them like a burglar. and it comforts me to know that if i took twenty-four hundred steps southwest i'll be at the doorway that leads to my future. 220818 ... tender_square i veer from my regular course to take the inner trail with wider green walls. i’m claustrophobic in the paths of trees i’ve known for a hundred days. i’m tired of hiding and hanging my secrets on their boughs; i step and envision the open air of the test track, and accelerating into the future. 220905 ... tender_square i made myself into a wafer with my layers; silk and cotton, wool and silicone elastomer. forty degrees at twilight, with pinpricks of stars and winking aircraft. i crossed my body with a raver’s reflective sash, the led a sickly, blinking green that startled a skunk. between pockets of sodium vapour i became a wobbling bubble of light. the lot was deserted and i loitered hoping for bill, uneasy about stepping into the grounds under a cloak of black alone. rabbits fled from grass-grazing, their white tails like fading phosphors as i neared. i paused at the lip of britton forest, shook the chill of unease and entered. civilization was over my right shoulder: a trail of morning motorists accelerating through open stretches of road. i was a noxious shamrock ambling through brush, and the light washed me fearful; i was underwater, drenched in darkness, the shipwrecked shapes of oaks made more ominous by what i cast, and i was too scared to snuff the switch. 220930 ... tender_square under golden light, gilded leaves fall, creating cobblestones of fortune. three blue orchard bees wrap their wings in an ecstatic orgy on the sidewalk. parents supervise their progeny’s whims on plastic play equipment, as they sip coffee behind sunglasses, devoid of spirit. would-be photographers hold bulky digital slr’s, pointing families to backdrops of community gardens in harvest. the emaciated ribs of beech trees poke through parched ground against my worn soles. i can’t stop stuffing my face with sugar, with salt; my side in stitches as i stride at a slower pace than i’m accustomed to, each day another purgatorial lap around the sun. 221001 ... tender_square the hunter’s moon was western-poised in a sky so cloudless passing planes flashed as stars. i stared into the beacons of hung-head lights until my eyes burned and i blinked back spots. darting between pylons constricting four-lane traffic down to two, i walked between parallel yellow stripes on the barricaded road. in the demolished field, the diamond and cherry lights of machines glowed idly while workmen prepared consaws for street surgery. in the park, i pursued the inner path, eyes cast upward, angling for angles of my lover’s milky face. at my back, the sunrise shattered into amber and honey, while the fields exploded in a brush fire of flameleaf sumac. 221011 ... tender_square inert metal fingers have clawed their way into concrete, ripping up roadway. still, cars drive determined, slowing only when the signs restrict them from pushing on any further; each one making a reluctant three-point pivot back the way they came. in the parking lot, two young women wear matching black bubble parkas that skim their ankles, sleepwalking in movable bed rolls. a hip mother in a short teddy coat, leggings, and shearling combat boots holds a big birthday bag for her daughter as they make their way toward the party pavilion, little girls flying and screeching like barn owls. throughout the gardening plots, green thumbs disassemble chicken wire and dig up dormant bulbs, leaving tilled dirt in their wake. the sun peers out from curtains of cloud, an anxious performer waiting in the wings, reluctant. on the forest floor, leaves of dijon and ginger, jam and syrup splay and mix with mud. i intersect with a trio of teens who don’t even acknowledge my presence with a look; am i a ghost of aging wrapped in grey husk? a man in a plaid jacket and puffer vest idles a john deere utility vehicle as a masked family crosses his path like wandering geese. ahead on the loose gravel trail, i study a pair of discarded tazo tea bags and tags, hoping for a fortune. a man with a sweatband and sunglasses moves toward me with the mechanical steps of frankenstein’s monster and i stifle a laugh as my lover’s words underscore the scene: “morbidity, nobility, together again.” 221015 ... tender_square i neglected to pack gloves and a hat due to the thirty_degree_swing, and wrapped my thermal sleeves like bandages around my fists, shoving them into my pockets. i cinched the cord on my hoodie, puckering it around my face, a weak boxer punching dawn. this would have to do until the sun cranked the earth’s thermostat a few degrees and my blood simmered inside. the sky was seared pink, and contrails dripped like an overloaded paint stroke of white. a city_worker texted while steering a golf cart toward other loitering orange vesters. a haunting beat emanated in the air, and i swiveled my satchel to my face, not knowing if it came from me; a teenage boy slowly cycled by on his back wheel with a backpack leaking horrorcore, the fabric stamped with the word “champion.” well, i guess that settles it. i unclenched my hands and spread their heat to my sandpaper cheeks, my metallic ears. a prissy pomeranian sniffed indignantly at other dog piss. two bubble-wrapped kids trudged across the frost-tipped grass to school, the boy purposefully pacing ahead to shake off his younger sister. a man hocked a prideful loogie. a woman did a walking jazzercise before breaking into jog. and i circled the track three times, a shadow unshrinking from the light of day. 221021 ... tender_square muddled moon, shrouds of cloud cover; darkness tenses across the empty streets, swallowing lame light. the clang of industry begins one block beyond, as construction crews break ground before daylight. in the scheffler lot, a white explorer coughs exhaust to copulate with my breath, the occupant warming their cab after a chilly sleep. i run across interrupted traffic on platt like a doe between the bob and weave of headlights. at the park, i start at the end rather than the beginning, retracing the trajectory of what i used to feel before — how does love become so rotten? sunrise dribbles in and i make out variegations of green from monochrome, seeing bill before he sees me. i consider crossing to the inside trail for solitude, but there's no exit. i hold millie's leash as bill bends to fasten his hiking boot on a shaky knee; i let him lead her and i both in conversation and in route. afterwards, i hustle home alone, past the diesel singe of fresh tar rolled hot against the roadway, mitten pressed against my nose and mouth. a motorist pauses at a red light before disobeying the signal and i curse at their defiance, their willingness to speed into the bend of an unknown corner the way i've been unable to. 221111 ... tender_square blue beacons of neon escalation burn in the semi-darkness from immovable skyscrapers and runway-bound planes. i can’t tell if dark pillars in the distance are cripoizam or track walkers. then, the tin-can sky cracks, and tangerine syrup spills over the lip; i’ll never match their speed and distance. a cop cruiser idles near the dog park and a few mutts growl in protest. a shorthaired pointer adopts a royal stance at the edge of it all, isolated, and i recall recesses where i drifted to the forbidden baseball diamond, alone. an old couple holds mittens while the wife horks into the bleached grass. how many years is a rough patch allowable before it becomes a weighted quilt keeping you in place? i remove my wool tourniquet from my neck and let the air slap my face red. the goalposts have shed their nets and stand like idle skeletons without purpose. i know the feeling. 221128 ... tender_square i take the track clockwise, against pedestrian flow, and the sharp west wind blows between the gaps of scarf and skin. a large box of disposable cutlery and plates camps out on a park bench seeking a party to need it. in the cordoned-off dog park, mutts chase and sniff and bark while their owners stand in a semi-circle sipping coffee in puffer coats and toques. a school bus idles in the stony lot without children to shuttle. i squint north and notice for the first time a line of brown apartments, beyond the smokestacks of the ford plant, indicative of the river’s remove from here. a man veers from path and onto the grass with his bike before adhering to route again. a man lets his dog off lead in the middle of the field but the animal won’t stray from his side. distance makes a mockery of me, tethering me to past under the guise of being free. 221201 ... tender_square my heart needed a direct route to suffering. i forgot the ice traction spring-system for my boots: some walkways were shoveled. others less so. by the coppice, a drift had formed from days of dry winds, each step quicksand. i wanted my legs to give out so i could give up, to fall into the cold until i numbed and then warmed into paradoxical undressing. take these six layers and give them to the gods of happenstance. the test track was exhausted with smeared footprints. i passed through one, two, three mounds of powder that had sifted through the scrawny arms of empty bleachers, and forced a path through the highest peaks. first there is punishment; what follows is redemption. 221226 ... tender_square i parked the car at the end of a muddy lane. a sound of disgust left my mouth; there was a crowd when i'd hoped for solitude. the dirt road stretched into the horizon, a lane of loose stone beside an empty house with drawn eyes awaiting purchase. i veered right on sad saffron grasses for a trail without markers. the landscape shifted with my steps, from leafless copses like corpses rotting, to jointed goatgrass rubbing stalks in conspiratorial whispers. the shouts of boys rose above the treetops, "helllllllllooooooo out there!" i lifted my middle finger in response. my body made for a lousy compass. the plastered leaf-collage i followed went east indefinite and i forked north with rooted unease: the path narrowed; the voices ceased. what animal made this route? to my left, an empty irrigation channel fattened and sunk from mucky ledges. i sidestepped sumac and shadbush and their fingers and brambles were a violation, a taunt scraping my long puffer vest. was i making my own way? cordgrass walls enclosed me; i lifted my arms above to pass through their intimidating press and prayed for a quick exit. too far gone to go back the way i'd come; forward now or nothing. two fiery cardinals fled a tangle of low branches, my heart in frenzied free-fall. 230102 ... tender_square i was surprised to see that in the hours i'd been fitfully asleep, outside had been blanketed in its own white duvet. the softness of solid precipitation compelled me to walk in fourteen degrees before the sun rose. i hitched my yak trax to my boots, a pair of spring-loaded crisscrossed grips that stamped the snow with kisses, xxx. the street was pristine for twenty paces, then i saw the footprints of a neighbour mixed with the paw prints of her two dogs; i was following instead of leading. at platt, the stop light was still out, burns park without power for the third day following the ice storm. a snow plow broke the morning's silence with its scraping chorus. in county farm's parking lot, the asphalt was strangely clear though no vehicles were present; the wind blew the snow bare across the plain. my prints shared the path with squirrels and rabbits that explored before me. along the untouched route, evergreens stood with broken boughs at their bases, snapped roughly from the storm. trees in the wild aren't tamed like they are around houses and electrical wires, they're free to grow where they please, as big as space will allow. in britton forest, i found deer tracks but no cervidae, and plodded on, tired and hungry. three-quarters of the way through, i was passed by a couple hiking with ski sticks, the points of which made comets in the path, a swoosh of scratch beside their jumbled impressions. a generator loudly coughed from behind a house. there was no birdsong, save for the pair geese who honked out overhead as they passed. 230225 ... tender_square the sky was spitting in my face. i entered the trail and saw a ribbon of coloured coats paused at a clearing, pointing. i took a different direction to be alone with my thoughts. along the fenced division line, sparrows cried in the crowns of ancient oaks. i stopped and cried too. wood chips gave way to sand. overcast chill to scorching sun. and in my mind, he and i were on the beach once more, listening to the powerful lake give and take. i opened my eyes as a mutt up ahead watched me, it’s owner calling to wait. i wiped my eyes and carried on, grateful that my wooly muffler covered me from getting to real with someone else. trains shunted outside of the rice factory, clangs carried on wind, and transport trucks whizzed by beside protected woodland. i smelled ash and saw the residue of soot and smoke. the fields were charred with tendrils of salt remaining. i know sometimes one has to burn down what’s living to move beyond survival and into thriving. i just didn’t expect for it to feel this way, doubling back at the precipice of change, fear rendering me just as weak as i’ve ever been. i crossed a footbridge covering a creek of rainwater. in the thicket of my heart, a doe emerged and studied me with an unshaken brown stare. i waved a mitten. she shook her tail. then a second doe crossed into the clearing, she paused out of mutual acknowledgement before she passed. and finally, a third came closest yet, nibbling on young grasses, unafraid. the three of them gathered harmoniously inside the field of clattering trees that had not yet budded. a crimson flag pulled me from the wood brush and fallen leaves. a male cardinal perched in a young birch. then, i noticed a wooden stake in the ground before it, with a continuous arrow pointing in the direction i came from and the direction i was moving toward. wherever you go, there you are. the cardinal took flight and headed right, aiming where i was headed. 230323 ... tender_square i've walked this route countless times. past the church with the pretty bells i can enjoy with windows open. past the house i took my first steps in. things stay the same on these streets with minor alterations. like the ranch with the wooden ramp, now stained a deep caramel. and the banner for the european bakery that's coming soon beside the pizza joint. tangerine daylillies crowd the base of a broad maple and suddenly i'm sobbing, thinking of three summers past and leigh ann leaving this world. cars careen to stop signs in half-yields. i haul ass on milloy to pass a man on the sidewalk steadying himself with a cane. a friend ditched our dance date and so i ambulate, kicking anger from these limbs. at the test track, the ren cen is decapitated in the distance. children kick balls in soccer practice cheered on by over-eager coaches. a man walks by with a slobbering dog and drools, "how's it goin?" a little girl balances on the bleacher's top row, then leaps to the ground four feet below, unscathed and buoyant. purple clover and creeping woodsorrel dot the margins of shorn fields. a cordillera of mulch rises in the parking lot. the gated grounds are unlocked and deserted. i step onto the pitch and into the center circle, look right to the opponent's net and left to the allied one. does it matter what side i'm on? back on the track, a woman on a bicycle grinds gears, her hair split down the middle, half black, the other blonde, darkness and light separated but mingling. above, an airplane shrieks, the fuselage translucent as it climbs through clouds. 230623 ... tender_square i crossed the wonky footbridge, sidestepping fishermen using chunks of hot dogs on their lures, over the shallow creek toward the lake. the wind-blown land turned to cliff. tall trees timbering and dropping dead across the landscape. bones clogging paths. the shore was dappled with a billion stones of slate. i slipped off my shoes and socks, yelped when the cold shock of erie hit my ankles. in the distance, wind turbines were immobile beasts as the breeze ruffled water with the motion of steady crinkling on the bleached body of a tree. black shorts and white tee from a missing figure that may have swam out to the horizon of cotton clouds. god knows i wanted to. i hoisted myself back up and walked the overlooking edge where reeds and grasses swayed like stoned concert-goers. into the forest. i found red-topped mushrooms and swashbuckled my way through ornate webs. an eagle broke from the treetops and soared above, irate. herons screeched like dinosaurs as i disturbed their wading areas. from the shoreline i could see the site, though i still had much to walk. a garter snake shimmied across the path and stopped me. i took three steps back and it carried on in the underbrush, belly cooled against damp soil. 230729 what's it to you? who go blather from