the way you tilt your head
when I want to believe
you love me

all the things that have
led to an orange in
your hand

tell me, so I can know
them all


The Cat Poem

cat by rainy window

Gather yourself
into bowls like the cat,
call the day a beauty

and because it’s raining,
hand press the wrinkles
until your shirt simply
ripples, give the cat a name

before she runs away
to someone else,
though this will break you,
you will still have

your bowls for another
bedraggled cat to come in
from the season in which
it has chosen you

over all others.