wraparound porch
the sun climbs into a rocker
beside her

pouring olive oil
into the sauté pan
my nightly enso

drought moon
another tear
in the window screen

sky clearing
a wren wipes its bill
on a fence nail

pandemic neighborhood of unmended fences
 

going deeper
for the silent treatment
autumn woods

before long
I too will be a house finch
face down in the grass

raking
again and again
the same conversation

missing paint
where our headboard
used to bump

pelicans circle the surfers awaiting the next wave
 

stay at home orders
fried chicken
crosses the road

charcoal sky
one breath away
there be dragons

first light
the soft clink
of last night's dishes

yogi berra
in the bicycle spokes
going all the way

everything's
arranged she said
last wildflowers