Summer Walls and Windows

Home is woven from strands of living,

Frivolous lovely history

Hopeful happy pitiful

Past, future, plants, fish,

Guitars and notebooks and shoes and herbs,

Souvenirs of travel and of nature walks,

Plants from weddings and performances

And grocery trips and heartbreaks

Big and small, deep and wide,

The crickets sing outside.

The mermaid on the chandelier

The succulent from the wedding

The paperwork is hidden away

Because life happens to all of us eventually.

The cat sleeps on the windowsill next to our mojito mint

And our shamrocks

And our sponges

And our wedding rings.

The crickets are always outside.

My husband feeds our cat in his underwear

And sets a coffee mug of water at my side.

Signs of silliness and selfishness and sweetness,

Of indulgence and loss,

Of caretaking and giving

Devotion and lust

Cling to walls.

Crickets sing

On the other side.

He feeds the cat and brings me water

Just like he promised he would.

Our apartment is too warm

And a perfect breeze threads through the window

To tickle my summer skin.

He calls me to bed. I listen.

I love to listen.

The crickets sing outside.