Windfalls

I’ve a yard full of moonlight
full of violets
full of roots
just beneath the surface
nosing always
towards what’s rich
I’ve shed my tights
for a cocktail on the stoop
I’ve a creek full of frogs
and a hedge full of cardinals
that trill pretty pretty pretty pretty
and never get hoarse
I’ve a stove that simmers stock
till it turns to gold,
a closet full of spangles
a head from which
flames grow like a cash crop
I’ve arms to dream of
and arms to hold
a neighbor cat whose ears
stick up just above
the picture window
when I come home
I’ve vermilion cotton sheets
and a quilt my great-
grandmother made
I’ve an old tub that’s deep
and lavender salts to sprinkle in
a window to open
a quiet street that backs up to mine
a cul-de-sac where traffic stops
an evening to think, to breathe,
to soak, to stew

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