and said “Maximalist” as if
it explained everything. I gave
her muffins with cranberries,
pine nuts, rooibos tea and dark
chocolate. I warned her
to duck so she wouldn’t
hit her head on the hanging
colored glass, shooed the dogs
off the couch and lit a fire. I offered
heist novels and poems, music
from when we were young.
She excused herself
and went home.
As explanation, she told me
there’s just too much world.
Repose is the spare swept pine
of an almost empty room. We are
a mismatched comedy of styles,
with her one black cat hiding
and my three orange tabbies
everywhere.
