All in One Place

Always the breaking sound,
a cup dropped to the stone floor,
sky rent with claps of thunder
and the rain that smashed
fragile seedlings.

The egg is an eye
or a telescope.
With so many lenses,
I held a song and a prayer
in the basket of my nights.

Then the sun rose
golden as a yolk.
What changes a day
might bring: a fickle dream.
My best plans turned to copper,

the coins I will not have.
I come to the garden
with my arms as empty
as another woman's house.