Pink evenings and low days

The bars are white soapy mouth

The sky is an unforgettable moment.

I take out my paper and mention my gratitude list-

I mention

        breath

onion

      Ketchup

broccoli 

    Sylvia

rosemary 

     Pauses  

The sun kisses my toes by the daytime

slushing,

suitcases and winter games.

I write too many sad poems, I know.

I write too many absent spirited lives.

 Loneliness spews black paint through my crevices.

I bloom too.

I bloom at darker, 

soft places

like – a sniff of a mountain or vapourizing lakes.

I must return to my kitchen now-

peel potatoes  and count the peanuts

Pink sky-

floral saturn rings of now and before.

I must return now, quickly.