the bed rose like a sail on the bridge. you stood on the verge with it propped like a sign on the highway people on their lunch hour no doubt attempting to catch the message through the glare. i wore my pegasus belt for bravery and tried not to horrify. mourning doves and those sparrows with stripes at the sunlit feeder, spirit houses and wind over the water in the yard. the house is clean, the canticle comes on, i crave the snap and billow of a clothesline. i crave light on the water. i dont think i did too bad, and we suck the air out of the lifeboat, that much closer to land.
the buds are russet and every morning i watch for the green peignoir of spring. grim morning grows into brilliant afternoon. the way your face looks when you set your eyes on me. thats never been before and speaks more than a million pretty words. the hand that holds the jewel, not the gem itself. crow comes for quickbread pickins dressed like a comely undertaker, stiff tail and roman nose. maus says youre doing well, fitting in with disregard and the girls love you. travelers all, the paper masks rustling under our hats ready to change.