churn like butter over butter
we greet mornings with a sigh and
a mutual handshake
between reluctance and gratitude
eyelids sweep floorboards
linens are hung out to dry
beds get made, only to be unmade
yesterday's seeds are soaking for tomorrow's sprouts
Maud stirs her tea with a dactylic finger
we take long walks
some nights
old willows croon
shake nettled whispers up our spines
Esmerelda shows her knees
and wags her thumbs in the air
junebugs fall like rain
and glitter smiles hang
from the
sky
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