22 September 2025
almost there
on the appearances of
the woman at the door
the child at the gate
dawdling or with business
to pursue – the glaring
lines of sun through
half a tree the
hearts beating in synchrony
i wanted to say unison
but the clouds sang
to their companions and
in the house were echoes
i felt my clothes on me
my feet in socks in shoes
somewhere a television
was not being smart
there was news of foreign places
the same news every hour
i heard someone open
and close a refrigerator
it was a crowded time
it would do