she returns

friday
she returns
twodays
from now

frenzied movement moment

sunday
hours
from her arrival

flowers cooking cleaning

where am i ?
what is this place ?

where i am

slip past the edge
of the yard
and the garden

barefoot
in the grass
in the water
in the winter

like an ankle bone 
cracked against a table leg

a somabulent ghost 
traces a path
in the dirt
in the woods
to a place
where the crows 
perch upon the eve