Light barely penetrates
moss by the side door
The locks are loose
after so many years of jiggling
A new fire is waiting
near the wall- if we’re not too tired
Two eggs sit untended, fallen from nests
now even snakes can’t be bothered
I hope I don’t forget to look again
when the lilies-of-the-valley push through
I’ve become old and clumsy
and unsteady in new ways
The day was full of wind and laughing
but there was a great big hole without you
Evening brought a cool sheen
to cover any green left of the day
unfolding long limbs into flight
patterns, pausing only to laugh
before setting sights somewhere
just beyond the sun.
He shines enough
to make a pocket of space
seem like home
for a little while.
Equations roll off his tongue
and they sound like heroic sighs
after the world has been saved,
even when the landscape has exploded
leaving us holding pieces of ourselves.
He glides quietly
yet firmly through to tomorrow
then tossing them
into stories to be carried away.
He strutted nude in the dark.
It seems she was someone else
when there was an interminable fracas.
He tried repeatedly to recreate the rhythm
of things falling apart; it made her smile.
Neither smiled when they kissed.
He didn’t mention the coming rain.
She shimmied as the wind changed.