A wedge or orange
waits for morning fingers
a black cat at the
screen door;
a pinch of salt
over the shoulder
same radio songs
weather changes
clouds always appear
last patch of snow
in the shaded
corner of the shed
a few buds up high
on trees
thrive where sunlight
touches them
clothesline posts
resemble starving
scare crows
the lines sway slightly
waiting for mornings
laundry
Roger Singer 