Small groups of flowers ,

leaves ,

plants in bottles

blooms
In each corner of this house

All leaning towards the light

pleading

thanking

making beauty
Altars of belief .

And in her head lists 
in no particular

Order

 Paul K song “Don’t come too close to the window
Somebody out there might see “
Kiss me ?
Kiss me ?
Put on your dress

 Hurry back home .

A constant refrain :
Garden list
House list
Mail list
Reading list
Shopping list
Muddled

buy eggs for zuchini and banana cake ,pot the red geraniums ,mulch the olive trees ,catch the caterpillars eating the kale ,snail pellets ,yoga class monday
get a bolster to use for the upward dog ,have i got the prolia stuff out of fridge ? .phone cassandra
where is ? sort that bedroom .and vacuum upstairs ,pay that bill from hospital ,throw away those medical pamphlets
rinse mouth ,push toilet button twice ,apply cream to sore skin ,watch out for cold water on hands
and dont swallow cold water
be careful of your skin,youll bleed,youll bruise,youll burn

Head buzzing
Are these buzzes offerings too?
Fixers to the ground?

Flowers and plants are lifting to the heavens
These mundane messages too may be anchoring to this life

this messy

busy

splendid life

here

NOW

And Paul K ?
The girl without her skirt?

exposed ,vigorous ,

full of sexual promise, dangerous
A danger lost with age and illness.

Are these offerings a farewell ?
or a summoning back ?
A memory as offering to God and gods ?
Not a sacrificial offering as such
Just a medley of reminders and cautions ?

A funny celebration of what was ,is and could be
As it was in the beginning
IS now
And ever shall be.

But hope this world,my world
Keeps going
Without end
For now