Have the sun right there in the west on its own time,
ready to fall away exactly when it should.
Have the cello late at night between your legs, your right arm aching
as you try to press one note into another.
Have the waltz in your mind. Have the orange in the large grey bowl,
your fingers holding its scent of new light and promise.
Have the walls clean for a day after painting before the kids come
with their expressive hands. Have yourself stretching low, washcloth in hand.
Have the paper, blank and abundant, the easy glow of black blue
at night, the morning fog lifting as...read more