What is this gentle coterie I recall
arriving on bikes for a walk to the cemetery
meeting here to go to the coffee shop to share life together
placing Matriarchs of the Universe painted on cardboard boxes from the grocery
and talking to the spider plant?
Does the elephant ear planted there
before a friend’s journey know
I sat on this stoop and spoke about therapy with Eddie?
Surely the crow remembers the hours on the phone
I spent with Amma crying about how spirit moves
on this rocker.
Like the bushes loved the songs my brother sang
when we drank wine all night long with a guitar at Christmas
And birthday balloons tied to the lemongrass out front.
All the food! Vegan stroganoff for my birthday appearing on the little table
tapas and fresh bread with my favorite restaurant GM.
The art show after Eddie died; the hugs and tears and wonder by the creaking door with all the gasps-
“Oh wow, this really is amazing.”
Iron rails hold how grateful I am for Megan Mayhew Bergman when I would set How Strange a Season down to breathe in.
Talking of angels and aliens over morning tea like they sit along with us.
Those shingles know the hands of the many friends, old and new
who decorated this place for Mardi Gras with flags and king cakes and beads
so I could feel love after so deep a loss.
And now, today, another evening comes
Out to my porch, to feel in my heart this day passed.
Terrified and grateful for another chance to be here.
-M
A recent favorite front porch over in DC doing amazing
