My
grand mother's paint-by-number sits upon a walnut shelf
somehow I still hear the call & pull from somewhere deep down South
earth crochet lies idle in a vintage chair weaved plaid
these walls lean in to tell me such tall tales of what I had
feathers from Algiers
pork belly home
sweet potatot swing-sets
love growing old
sureness by the fire
bloody marys at noon
rain on Sunday
April Pink Moon
solitary I slumber in this ancient french brass bed
flannel for my pillow — grey dog by my head
memories flicker bright & then they flicker dim
of prairie fields in springtime
and
wild fates tempest whim
feathers from Algiers
pork belly home
sweet potatot swing-sets
love growing old
sureness by the fire
bloody marys at noon
rain on sunday
April Pink Moon
