by Mark DeCarteret

save us I try to say
straightening up
your late auntís vase
& putting the tulips
back in their place
the cat now tackling
a glint given off by
the skylight like this
tightest of oft-white
buds before letting this
overstrained other one--
a sprig splitting time
between our skin &
the scuffed up nicked
floors of the cottage
really have it up until
one of us having seen
to the coffee spills &
stuffing has recovered
our voice just enough
to sound brighter more
curious than the sun