You cannot separate love
from the place you live.
Dusty shelves and cobwebs in corners
warm ale half drunk and forgotten
crumbs of yesterday’s bread
scattered on floor
all take time and patience to accomplish.

A bucket of cold water
quarter cup of Simple Green
is savagery against
cat claws and yellow stains
evidences of affection
earned, not given.

When the heart knows
it will not refute
the long engagement of socks
and the entangled hair clusters
under the bed.

A draft of air rushes in
takes a seat on the easy chair.
Peach petals settled on the window sill.
They are here to stay.