when you think of the house that lies
empty, that contains broken things, important
and unimportant—the picture frames 
and plastic bags, never you.

You and your spirit. Maybe 
some days will feel like fall
when it’s certainly summer.

Don’t let the cool or heat dissuade
from the greening trees, the sky
moving overhead. Remember:
even decomposition
has its purpose. 

The seasons will come, even the spring.
And if it doesn’t, flood
the house with rain. 
Let the water come anyway.
Let the sun shine on us again.