041: backyard after dark.

Nights so cool I pull on fleece,

yank up hiking socks, cuddle my tea

mug close to my neck.

*

Before dark I run out to the clothesline

to take the blankets down.

It’s late enough for dew—I track grass

into the kitchen, barefoot,

holding two baskets stacked.

*

Being all over the world, home

is a refuge. To think of change

is to think of endings,

and I can’t bear that.

*

Tomorrow I drag a suitcase

up from the basement,

fold clothes into the corners that smell faintly

of soap and car exhaust,

look out the window and breathe

again.