Inside/Outside

​Plates clatter as I pull them out in clumps
from the dishwasher. Between the clashes
the bounce, bounce, bounce of a rubber ball
against the wall in the living room. A riff
of piano jazz floats high, then wallows deeper,
struck with dissonant chords. The compost overflows:
drooping Gerber daisies, bristly asparagus tips,
pumpkin innards, so I open the back door,
step outside arms full and am caught by
the still breath. I tread carefully on the carpet
of stellate leaves, crimson tempered with dusk.
A few last, dry stars cling to the cleansed maple.
The outdoor table is covered, and the chairs
rest at slants or sleep.

Published on Gertrude Press, https://www.gertrudepress.org/joanna-brown.html

Joanna Doris Brown