All that was given

. . . assumptions of place immobilize

there is no place,

just resting points

where you catch your breath

between
 

     Saturdays I sleep
     but something called me early.
     The dropping on leaves was gentle.
     I stood where the rain could drop on me too.

regardless of language acquisition.

This is why foreign travel

is to be discouraged.

if you plan to return

your language

leaves you

out of place. 

 

     A cardinal built outside my window
     with no understanding of windows,
     that it was watched:
     the hatching of offspring
     watched.
     I tried to look gently,

     Wishing not to disturb

I must have built outside a window

not understanding how carefully

I was watched

I can't see the eyes looking back

I wish to gesture something rude

but don't because of what it is . . . 

     She didn't linger

     She'll build again in the spring.

"...something we will potentially have to live with,

throughout the whole thing,"

     Peace is easy in the clouds

     Remembering other places clouds have been
     It is, after all, the same sky
     And the colors in the morning--

(ingratitude is heavy

Like a sin
I fail to love

All that was given

in the rain)

 

     We slip into easy clothing

      Time never wears the same day twice
      (It was the best yard for children.) 

Trying not to count the time remaining

Seeking permission from . . .

Asking the universe maybe,

God

Hoping I'll know

How to leave a place

and when?  

      I keep the grass mowed

      Holding in trust for the next layer
      Of running and laughing
      Needing the best yard
      too large for me

      If time were something different . . .
       If we could hear them all at once . . .  

Forced in honesty to tell the child

It's safer not to speak,

If she could only wait--

She'll be safer elsewhere,

Considering

The definitions that cling

to the innocent trees

of this place
 

     Peace is easy in the clouds,

     And the colors in the morning,
     Especially on days I generally sleep . . .

Where we are

not

supposed to be.

July, 2012