2000/2ndQtr/phone

No phone again today.
I don’t really miss it.
It helps make home a retreat,
the cloistered truth of a poet’s life.
The dryer humming,
my rocking chair squeaks.

I have removed the cat hair
from the couch,
swept and mopped the floors.
Cleaned the coffee table glass
and watered the yard.
His world is back in tact
with undershorts in the drawer.
While I contemplate
purchases to be returned,
and summer clothes to wear.

4/4/00