Bodega | Sundown

i am telling you i’m outside myself
in the room behind the door

behind the door the light is on
& i am home

i promise i am not lost
in the grocery wandering

about my four lemons & a pair of socks
i gathered you in my basket

with a bushel of keys i need these
for the plane ride back somewhere

i can’t think of what door
do i stand behind

it’s on the tip of my name the door
that i stand behind the box

where my head goes where my dinner
lives where children make

potted plants become swing sets
every library i dream

of the afternoon where we hung
pinecones from a cheek

& waited for winged mammals
to turn another branch

my children lived inside the telephone
it never remembers

who i go or where i leave my numbers
she walked into the citrus & never

turned sideways that’s what they’ll collect
about me when i am

on my shelf behind a door
deep inside a cupboard

Sundown