The Patience of Ordinary Things
It is a kind of love, is it not??
How the cup holds the tea,?
How the chair stands sturdy
and foursquare, ?
How the floor receives
the bottoms of shoes?
Or toes. How soles of feet know?
Where they’re supposed to be.?
I’ve been thinking
about the patience ?
Of ordinary things, how clothes?
Wait respectfully in closets?
And soap dries
quietly in the dish,?
And towels drink the wet?
From the skin of the back.?
And
the lovely repetition of stairs.?
And what is more generous
than a window?