Author's Note
keys on the floor; the rose-lists
and the buckle
I used to pull tight round you
every morning in infant's law
the cherry-wood door
where our names are scored
we were in love once
before
if I was ever that close
to work in your puzzled
and sinking eyes,
heavy in crocus-dew
lain in burlap fields
with jericho's sun rising edge
what side was there to walk
'...ever, the lawn
or tile,
I was always inside'
my image/photo