We say house meeting
to talk about the dishes
missing bread lid and sneaking eggs,
water for ducks and greens for sheep,
rodents who cherish our crumbs,
toilets all our ass cheeks have kissed,
clutter in the early hours,
dirty salad bowls at lunch,
harried cleanups in after-party.
At house meetings
I breathe slowly
as we bend toward one another
rustle & preen our arms
like we are trees in the birch wood
this house, our heart
blood pumping through the flood plain
arteries winding through the meadow, up the
avenue, into the maple grove, out
toward the back field, and on
the lazy banks of Esopus creek
we live, we breathe,
we flow and bump,
we whisper blessings
in and out of this old house.