Hall Stand

Who is this--
Central mirror,
Hooks for hats,
Coats, drawer
For gloves,
An umbrella well
And, under all,
A rack for boots
And shoes?
A thing I use.
Who, who is this?
Who am I?
Hooks on either
Side, I decide
And change
Clothes with it,
My alter-ego.
Now I am a gardener.
Was I a clothes tree
A moment ago?

This Week's Chores

Out early, raw
Morning, gray
But brighter
East, unreal light--
One can't cast
Shadow into silver--
Shows what wind
Did in dark,
How trees at our
Woody end reached
Into roaring
Sky, leapt from
Earth and tried
To fly.

Waking Choir

In iris
Light and color
Course the year.
Bulb, spear, stalk
Crowd seasons,
Push to flares
And bearded falls.
There is ritual
Enough for
Us all.

Pleaching For Shelter

Where time
Expands space,
We touched
Hands, joined ways,
And to that
Touch entrusted
All our days.