Pencil Stub

Gardenscape on
Paper: inexact
Science, scribbles.
You know, it
Won't do.
That's a faucet,
Which should be
Central --I
Love you too.
And that, is
That the
Right size?
Things need
To be how big
They are.
If cartographers
Invented clocks
Each would have
NOT TO SCALE
On its face.
Solar system?
No, it's where
Tomatoes go.

Apricot Orchard

Bare feet slap
Packed earth.
In my mind a
Child plays in
Summer shade.
I am here, far
Along the life
He made --more
Than memory, he
Exists in me,
Brown boy whose
Birth began what
I am: an old
Genie who flew
Into dreams and
Made them true.