The Overcast

There is a line of light running

through the sun. Have you contemplated

the bend in your knees

lately?

We are in the

afterautumn, which has

coyote eyes & a frostbitten crinoline

mouth. The cat

scrambles up wooden fences/

clawclatter & thickened fur

& graylined eyes.

I sink

into plaid

recoup the taste of honey

in the back of my mouth/ in the depths

of tea, unstirred

& you mix & mix

with your tongue

searching

for where the sweet

has gone.

I hold the doorframes/

I can't articulate

why it feels like earthquakes.