PAPER HANDKERCHIEFS

A funnel, tissues, the telephone,

completely unrelated, now I see them

before me on the table.

Should I put them together

in a sentence?  Just did, see above.

Let’s take something else. The sky

is the spider’s water and then it builds

a bridge to reach the fly.

A child says so, a line

that breaks. The heavy teapot

grows less heavy the more you pour.

Everything changes before

you know it. An address is crucial. It

is your pseudonym. And then I let them

go, the funnel and the spider,

the child and the tea, paper handkerchiefs

and even where you live. The window’s open,

the address blows away on the wind.