I have changed residences once again
though the front porch I sit on remains the same.
The play of the sunlight and of the maple tree leaves
dapples the ground at my feet and I think of you.
I am eating blueberries, one at a time, careful to not
get the tiny seeds caught between my teeth,
the way yesterday’s problems tend to tuck
themselves between the floorboards of my living space,
as if taking a nap will make them fresh for the journeys
ahead; a trip to the grocery store, the gas station,
to the place selling shiny electronics which
eat up whole paychecks in one bite and to the shoe store.
I like shoes. And, if my small pocketbook would
allow me, I would wear a different pair every day
And walk before you.