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the fly

is waiting for me

on the kettle

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heavy with blossoms

the myrtle’s limbs

suddenly lower

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no these are

the flies you get

from rain

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the fly leaves the plate

tiny bits of butter

on its feet

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when I awake

if there isn’t a list

I write one

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when I awake

the cat keeps

the sadness away

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when I awake

you have gone

to sleep

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when I awake

I have to check

which house I’m in

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when I awake

I wonder about

the crepe myrtle

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refilling the wiper fluid

she gives you

a second kiss

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