In this street
which has outgrown birds
she stoops to listen.
By the appliance store
where the house once stood
she pauses
puts down her bag
as if to empty a letterbox -
the soil still smells of violets
& honeysuckle hedge
On the back step of years
where decades are shelled like peas
summers bottled in Agee jars
her laughter like pollen
swirls through the dairy…
tickles the heads of school children
planting a time capsule.