I hear the wet strokes of a paint roller clinging to bare wall
the back and forth
the up and down
spreading a fresh-white over the
old
yellowed with age
she is painting the bedroom while
I listen to chatter on the news
Kitty sits on her broad in the
window, watching
the street, the
movement of rodents the flight of birds
sunlight brushing the lilies
flowering in the boulevard
a cool wind blows through the
peonies, which
having dropped their pink and
purple petals
from their
pendulous bulbs
the dark-green-stalks stand like bushes
lined-up neatly along the walk
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