Write the kitchen window
the mountain half blocked by trees
and roofs at the end of the road
Write newly fallen yellow leaves
heaped under the apricot tree
beside a house of broken chairs
Write the old pick-up trucks
growling from the school parking lot
like trapped animals let loose
Write the first visible stars
over this town of warm suppers
where people always say grace
Write the hand that is writing
on a yellow pad at a kitchen table
where a dog curls under the table
Write contentment
Write bedtime
Write sleep
