The Dictators' Guide to Good Housekeeping

Aubade: Aubade

I don't need carp to jump out of the lake
                                          to know disaster swims underneath

 or see my mother's brain scan to know fear
                            resides in small actions

but I need to see slurry fog pull the sea into the valley,
                                                     before it leaves cars and starlings behind

to have learned a lacewing can nibble itself out of the web before the spider
                 knows it's gone,

 that it takes a long time,
                                       to make yourself a tube of wing

and not often but sometimes, I need to open coriander
                                                                 husks for the dusty seeds, the bright bite

and when I'm away, before my day ends, I need your voice to tell me your day's story,
                      your voice that is aspen, sidewalk, bicycle, your name, my name.