at dawn, two women
laughter rolls from their window
birds caught eavesdropping
wetlands shimmering
singing to one another
a train and cricket
tall reeds giving way
a mother with one duckling
so fiercely guarded
lightning fast spider
peering into the tissue
to find only dust
quick breath of four wings
still fluttering, still tumbling
only the hawk cries
gray cement mixer
casting shadows on the ground
like empty cannons
charging into you
door tugged from opposite sides
charging into me
text message arrives
vibrating hot in my hand
this endless summer
under the window
small dove in the flower box
still stunned and confused
out here in the reeds
we would plant a floating house
and learn how to row
aching legs and chest
from running through fire season
smoke breathed into you
wood planks of the bridge
lift their fingers to trip me
time to stop and play
two dozen roses
nothing so complicated
nor simple as this
