20.
I brush the clouds away
See their tails fading
against the blue?
and chase the leaves away
from the edges
of your garden.
In autumn, I set
the bulbs to sleep
and the plants to rest
before the snow.
Your windows wore my paint
each January morning
the needles and ropes
of a night’s designing.
Come March, I nudge
and tug the things
to place again
to bloom and sway
for you, m’lady. For you.
Summer I cannot stay
within the house
the fields and greens call
the nights long to dance
the moon warm and bright
the sun hot and drowsy
we dance with the world
in its fullness.
Tiptoeing in late
I brush the clouds away
from your dreams,
brush the care
from your brows,
before I rest myself.
