marble
raze
ashes
cower
behind
cast
iron
cooking
grates.
all
these
rusted charcoal grills nurse
the
ghosts
of
old
meals.
robins
rub
shoulders
with
the
secrets
of
starlings.
above
them
,
blue
jays
perch
on
curved
branches
and
crooked
power
lines
. alfalfa
and
hoary
alyssum
stand
together
at
the
side
of
the
road
,
their
fingers
interlaced.
i
follow
a
path
paved
with
dried
leaves
and
wood
chips.
it
leads
me
to
a
broken
pipe.
water
moved
through
this
once
.
today
it's
a
thermoplastic root packed
with
warm
dirt
.
in
the
parking
lot
there's
an
empty
bag
of
west coast cannabis
between
two
speed
bumps
aged
past
the
point
of
visibility.
a
black
metal
bench
is
braided
with
flowers
, marked
by
the
memory
of
a
woman
who
died
the
year
she
turned
sixty
-five.
a
blue
polypropylene
shovel
lies
abandoned
at
the
intersection
of
gladstone
avenue
and
memorial
drive
.
an
emaciated
dirt
bike
stalls
out
twenty
feet
behind
me
.
a
scattering
of
blue
tears
tattooed
beneath
the
rider's
eyes
.
he
weeps
even
when
he
smiles
.
a
briard nuzzles
my
leg.
i
feel
the
wet
kiss
of
her
nose
against
my
knee
.
kids
toss logs
onto
the
chipped
roof
of
the
gazebo.
at
the
top
of
a
hill
i
find
a
billet
fit
for
burning
.
i
hoist
it
above
my
head
and
blow
a
headstrong aphid
from
my
forearm
.
a
child
who
shares
your
name
loses
her
footing
and
falls
.
she
picks
herself
up
and
tiptoes
across
tabletops.
stone
slabs
and
wooden planks
on
cinder
blocks
.
the
trail
proffers
a
marble, dented
and
dirty
.
it
glows
green
in
my
hand
.
i
stare
into
the
sphere
to
see
the
future
,
and
my
ears
fill
with
the
thick gauze
of
your
father's
words
. "
that's
my
girl
."
220605
what's it to you?
who
go
blather
from