Almost time for bed
How did I get through the day
Without a poem?

Old clothes on a pyre
Burning pain and memory
The old life left behind

We walk on a road
The shape of the Milky Way
Seeking a way in

Or we stand on it
Counting the miles and wond'ring:
Are we in or out

Like hidden tattoos
Unmatched socks inside my boots.
Who's gonna know?

Spring rain and coffee
The house lit by the grow lamps
Pepper seeds sprouted!

Snip this, sprinkle that:
gardeners in early spring
need something to do

A wall of found bricks
Collapses every winter.
So I rebuild it.