Lisa doing art

oh…

and there are windows

light lifting

bright door

and there’s a drop cloth under easel

paisley draped over table paper paint plates

stool in front

painting of forest

but she stands beside canvas

brush in hand filling in a barked branch

black curls like ideas singing

bare foot pointing fearless

the world is this

tiny stroke of blue-green

upon creation

…yes

Roger's smiles

there are two

one for the camera

squint eyes

pinch mouth

dimple chin jutted

look I’m three

I know how to smile

one for himself

in midst of play

giant eyes

shine teeth

ha laugh

I’m three

I see monsters to slay

and fires to douse and

I can play a trumpet fanfare for all to hear

no camera needed

three cats

twelve paws

sixty claws

many

many meows

in a day of coming and going

in and out

two black brothers

Bilbo and Buxy

trouble in twos

and Henry the tabby

learning to be friends

in this modest home of

lived-in lustre

at least the fur is soft

box by the door

the woolens have come out

mittens

and hats

and scarves

and sweaters

that keep you in

thisthingcalledwinter

bare skin ensconced in fibres

north winds tamed

and stormy snow safe

I wear I heart NY toque

pushing heat down body

flooding inner heart warmth

on this frozen last day of

leafy October