I.

When the cat – who is, by affiliation, YOUR cat –
bounds toward the door from a high tree,
looking for all the world like glory,
(and there was a moment there, as usual, you worried
he may have been a goner, but then, aren’t we all just
goners in the making),
and you look across the winter yard, branches expansive with air,
all of it pulsing with the inevitable possibility of this moment

II.

The other day it was raining and warm, a breeze from the West
and the feel of the air was transplanted from the time
well one of the times
that I walked across England
and I though, “my God, even the weather is mine.”

III.

You, asleep beside, and me,
on the edge of the whole world