another for the embers of headlines and kindling,
for the sun-spitted carcass of the locust,
and never forget the roundabout loves
of the honey bees, to and fro,
all for what we mean by a home—combed
and sticky. and one for the dirigible
and one for the resistable urges
over and above the other kind.
another for the lantern snuffed by a gust
on the way to check the chicken coop for coyotes.
for the must of old books,
of olden days,
of the meaningful ways we word.
one each for candied ginger and equilibrium.