for Margaret
she lives and speaks
deliberately
with intention
a stretching out of her heart
to everyone
she listens to the stars
and the lap of the lake
she makes a cup of tea
for death
and a nest for birth
she tucks each little brother
and sister in warm
before laying down her own bones
she brings all her attention
to each blessed day
SPF infinity
the middle-aged cashier gives
the inevitable antipodal greeting:
How ya goin’?
all business in her short sensible haircut
and utilitarian bifocals
she scans things quickly
leaves them on the belt
for us to pack ourselves
then suddenly stops
seizes a bottle
looks at it quizzically
What’s this? she says
and I almost answer
it’s sunscreen
before I catch the twinkle
in her eye
We’re feeling optimistic
I say weakly
while rain lashes the store windows
but she just smiles
and shrugs
