I mean it. I’m not earnest. I pledge
nothing, I plight, earnestly, with meaning,
I note the vining hairy vetch climbing the fence,
not yet blooming, but I am un-solemn,
I am endangered. Cut wilted daffodil blossoms.
Cathy asked me how I am and I said, “I’m not in
immediate danger.” What I meant was I’m not easily
suicidal. I can stroll the sidewalks peacefully
without thinking of accidentally falling off the curb
when a bus goes by too close. I tried to photograph
the sun-glint, unevenly traced among generations
of defunct cable and internet wires. The sinking land
around the tidal basin. On occasion I go down to see
the cherry trees. Our house is on a hill, so the sea
would really have to rise. It will.