These houses along the lake
Full of old women and children
Couples in their linen laced beds
Full of broken ankles and flies
Chipped cookware with flowers
Lovely toys scattered as sunrays
Dusty corners and swept floors
Pools of grief and joy the colors
Of strawberry and yuzu fruits
These houses along my path
From the grocery to the water
Unblinking mesas with cracked
Faces, all unsmiling, but opened
With mouths poised to swallow
All that’s human and untied shoes.