Mouthing the wind that falls
into the trees and behind the trees.
So good to be home.
Clouds break up like small planes. The cardinals and bluebirds at home.
My feet up on God’s coffee table,
setting down my drink without a cocktail napkin.
What Gontarek would do.
Grandmother in her wedding gown, softly: You are such an angel.
Moths going for the light like a dessert table.