Crystaline grass
silver shopping cart (inexplicably left on my front lawn)
a hobbling skunk
no one hears the bang and clank
of coffee and dish
raging
alone
there is no one to wake
but eyes everywhere
especially mine
framed by orange lace
over dishes
steam rising and softening
my edged gaze
Couples come, confer, approach and pause, enter . . .
I image swinging sex or
church confessions
come late to my role
of gossip and snoop
moved
my daughter marches and stomps
"Why I can jump mommy? Why I can?"
she lays down later on the grass
hugging it
we run round and round
monsters creaking at our backs
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