Tenuous Hold

.
Between here and the greenhouse
in the cleft of snow
I’d made with my Troy
after the last storm,
matted grass
and thaw-soaked soil
call for a new walk
under an old sun

It’s an easy invitation to accept
after hunkered months indoors
as the woodpile disappeared in drifts,
even squirrels disappeared,
birdsong became as distant
as my dead mother’s voice

I see this through a sash
over a sink filled with soiled
plates and suds
a young avocado stem
sprouting from a split seed
in a cup on a sill
its leaves arcing precisely away
saying

This is what it means to be alive,
to stand in the sun,
to guzzle light and
inspire an ignorant dishwasher
to urge his planet’s turn
a bit further along in its
circling of a star
to align sooner
with his hemisphere
and make for him
a more perfect
union

one more
tenuous hold

by Jim Culleny, 3/9/2010

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