the kitchen window a day clean rising yellow sun as I listen

to the Zuihitsu movement of wind all-up inside my head

6:11 am. My morning grown-woman-warrior routine begins I shower off

the night sweats with Rachel Maddow on the iPad propped up behind

the bathroom faucet as I apply my age appropriate war paint over the sink

7:20 am.I lock my black painted apartment door turn around and notice

a pair of little-canary yellow rain boots outside apartment number 2-B

little yellow plastic boots laying on their sides abandoned for weeks

I head on down the marble 1920s postwar staircase past each black

painted apartment door is a story five stories per floor some stories I know

most I don’t as I turn to continue down the third & second flights

Landing on the first floor stepping out the front door skipping down the three-

step stoop that faces the black tree lined park All my Dad ever wanted

to see was the northern fall colors of dying green red and yellow leaves

And as I descend into the 15th Street subway stop headed uptown towards

the next Ground Zero I take note that my old brown working boots

need shining and as old as I am I still miss my Mom and Dad