Spun silk of mercy, br long-limbed afternoon, br sun urging purple blossoms from baked stems. br What better blessing than to move without hurry br under trees? br Lugging a bucket to the rose that became a twining br house by now, roof and walls of vine— br you could live inside this rose. br Pouring a slow stream around the br ancient pineapple crowned with spiky fruit, br I thought we would feel old br by the year 2000. br Walt Disney thought cars would fly. br br What a drama to keep thinking the last summer br the last birthday br before the calendar turns to zeroes. br My neighbor says anything we plant br in September takes hold. br She’s lining pots of little grasses by her walk. br br I want to know the root goes deep br on all that came before, br you could lay a soaker hose across br your whole life and know br there was something br under layers of packed summer earth br and dry blown grass br to moisten.