Each month, write a new collection.
Two thingsFirst thing:The coffeeThat I made this morning:Caramel colored and So strong I’ve hadTo add water to the usual ratio. 3 scoopsMakes 4 and a half cups —That extra 4 oz. feels like a bigbonus.Second thing:The lavender I plantedLast september.It sat in the groundAnd then suddenlyBecame enormousBloomed and keeps onBlooming. And growing. The grandmother in Silko’s Novel about a garden, names all her plants.What should I call this lavender monster?Also — I’d forgotten that purpleIs my favorite colorGreen my second favorite.So I drink my coffee andLook out at the grass With its perfect mixtureAnd think about Appelations For my newest familyMember.
It fell out of its nest days agoOne fledgling in a millionIt wouldn't be missedCats come and go every nightThe heat of sun beats down every dayYet still the fledgling pushes onMother comes with tastey bitsBecause it was missedOne fledgling in a millionSmallBut loved
Whisker wiresMuffy fur sheds whitePurring soft