beneath the canopy of house,

an understory five generations

and more have trod, slept, worked

homework and housework and

that work of the soul it takes to live

together.

Bottles staggered neatly on shelves

from veranda’s floor to ceiling facing

the road so passersby know. When

sunbeams strike the glass into flashes

empty vessels become filled whether

inside or outside domestic force field

boundaries. No Master resides

within nor without: Just Dolly: who

may be justifiably bitter, usually

a joy, always profound in emotion =

[meaning] feelings come before/are meanings

washing over one’s self, melting into many

selves. I and I and Is she [Dolly]

choreographs this flow of time movement—

jumbi rehearsing from crapaud yard floor

to pigeon ceiling and mouse spider beams.

We are dead and alive: hero speck and monster:

some joining

the fun: involved. Others like statues with

backs against walls, watching, waiting to be

called and recalled, consumed to be renewed, born

again

and again

and again

Itinually