day after day
the oven was set on high
the sun fierce and very near
and well
was it the apocalypse
it must be

but you know

spiders had left eggs deep
in narrow shafts beneath window sills
and there were patches of lawn
against the peeling picket fences
untended little paradises
where things still grew
unnoticed
wildernesses
on a very small scale

babies were being born

i saw a screech owl in my dream this morning
safely hiding
an unexpected armadillo
in the pocket of glass window
of a neighborhood church