tires on gravel
the couple drives away
embarking on their travels
hiding behind a rose bush
I leave a rose at their door
I take over their house
I sleep in their bed
I cook on their stove
I wash my clothes in
their machine
cold sheets blow on the line
friends receive my new
phone number
my driver’s license has a new
address
mail arrives daily
I walk the invisible dog
to the beach every day
shorebirds search the shore
I give them sand dollars
to purchase the moon
squid prefer clean water
their ink writes chanties
on the ocean floor
terns turn in
five directions
sewing up the points of stars
back home I turn on the oven
the potatoes burn
like hot horses
after a rough night ride
I eat juicy tomatoes
picked from the campus field
row upon row of
red sea shell souls
the radio news is on
there’s a wind over Kansas
rain makes progress
on the roof
the shutters shuffle noisily
I enjoy the evening
beauty salon magazines
on the coffee table
the Braille of piano rolls
etch audio notations
a photo album contains
one baby picture
beautiful rosy cheeks
and dress to match
before bed I go outside
to view the stars and moon
over the house
with my face skyward I
name each constellation
at peace I start back
toward the door
I spot a cross
out farther in the yard
the oven turned off and cold
Here lies Tiny Alice
her rose dress
emptying in the ground