Madame Martin and I

Madame Martin and I

Madame Martin will throw back her shutters at eight
one-arm scoop up sun
she will brush her hair on the stoop using a small pane
as a mirror
cap of hair like a well-scoured pot
bobbing a little
like the branch the goldfinch swooped off

Monsieur Martin died last summer no
last last summer
a quiet man
who liked to do chores round the yard
spray the roses
who liked to paint his garden gate green
every summer
leafy leafy forest green
...