Winter earth
Hints of Spring
Ice sings a ripple song
Winter earth
Hints of Spring
Ice sings a ripple song
Her house for sale now
real estate sign face down on the lawn
implies more than declares
No one, I think, has checked for days
She has gone from there
I don’t know when
We mind our own business here
in quiet neighbourhoods
No matter we exchanged no words
I honour her now—-trespass sometimes required—-
I honour her now
stand before her house absent of her there behind the drape
I step across her early morning lawn
photograph this birdbath in spring sunlight
imagining she loved it once
enough to place it precisely there
equidistant from window and sidewalk
the private the public
and we smile our smiles
Talk is not needed here
the water has all gone to vapour.