Nothing Serious

i am getting

accustomed again

to sharing life with

living things to small

uninvited lives

passing through

the spider in the shower

clinging to the tile

her sister each night mending

her sticky web below the lintel

hanging by a thread

the crack in the casing

through which the ants crawl in

the hole in the foundation

providing passage for the field mice

in their timid comings and goings

the racer stretching in the sun

on the bluestone beyond the transom

these are welcomed distractions

platonic accommodations

the tiniest of aberrations

a short list of cheap repairs

to remediate on a rainy day

hardly anything

to get excited about

or consider dangerous

really nothing serious

to fret upon when

you live alone

the only worry is

the cardinal caught

in its reflection interrupting

morning’s meditation

bumping knocking banging

at the window trying

with a mix of stubbornness

and determination

to connect with

the solitary bird

depicted behind the glass

who is not there