Year One

  1. New Home Autumn

In the little yard
I rake up leaves,
pulling the brown wrappers
onto the sidewalk,
the metal tines clanging
across the cement like bells.
Oranges have fallen again
last night and scatter the lawn
like children’s spongy bath toys.
The cat has found a spot in a wicker chair.
Inside you paint the hallway
a green called Thyme.

  1. Storm, New Year’s Eve

All night the wind
rips at the house,
the screens on the porch slam,
the little door for the water heater
tears open and shut.
The vents above the bed
fill and empty with air.
Branches push against the walls
and fruit is shook from trees.
Tomorrow leaves will blanket the grass:
gold, brown, yellow,
and the sky will be suddenly evident.

  1. Spring

This morning
the light travels across the lawn,
flowers take their turns
in the sun,
small faces tilted toward the warmth.
The jasmine climbs the railing
and happiness sweeps by
for a few moments again.

  1. Late July

I water early
while the lawn is still in shadow,
and all morning
the smell of wet cement
lifts in through the windows.

Published in Kimera