October 24, 2023

a list of abundances

Two celery heads, nine carrots, three halves of lime.
A coffee mug filled with working pens. 
That the cat is sleeping soundly at the edge of a bed
on which there is a pair of nubby blankets. This thing 
I do in the shower where I close my eyes and just 
stand there. The men who will replace my back tire tomorrow.
That tire coming direct from a warehouse of tires. 
If I start counting, I’ll never stop. 
This is its own abundance, its own small shame.
In the news photographs, a sea of dust chokes the air.