Between Anxiety and Afternoon
A poem of inspection
I see the evidence of us scattered about our cold
little portion of earth — three basketballs tucked
by the side of the house, a forgotten toy crusted with dirt,
the rusty wagon overturned to keep out the rain.
The cat stalks a hidden animal in the unruly lawn.
This morning is a curious child, turning each minute
of life over in her small hands to know what’s underneath.
Am I a…