Garden

The sofa not placed beneath the window,
A chair with a stiff back, the framing
Of the outside acquires an attentiveness
Not demanded, it asked for nothing-

--------a wind at this end of its meeting
--------waves stalks of lemon balm
--------with the same effect as though
--------neither were ever even there

Casualness and is left to the worn
Print of the cushions, a slumbered
Forgetful ochre, and what remains
Catches the air that stays open

For a placement.
A hard span of stone.
Granite pale with its
Own masonry of layers

As actualized into a compact,
The entire scene of combinations
Creased and thru all development
Of the complexities of Summer.

The midwife had waved from the river.
A gated password into activity--

--------a spirit and the holed shoes
--------beyond front door directions
--------paced upon an attentive world
--------from a raft that carries with it

Necessary choice greeting when standing
With the contact, braving physical delirium--

--------small baneful leaves broken
--------open and leak oceans of mint
--------unduly sharp knowing texture
--------as the aging tip is a process

The gratuitous laziness of past sleep
Becomes the graciousness, unbound mulch
For whole bowls full of next year’s fruit,
Prepared from what was decided, tended.