By what straunge accident faire Chrysogone
Conceived these infants, and how them she bare..."
- Edmund Spenser
from The Third Booke of The Faerie Queene
here sit
here bathe
in pooling currents
of sunlight
drenching my front step
from which, if off I step,
I shall be brushed
by the overgrown shrub
tickling wayward passersby
and if off this step
I should take my way
take endless more
if I should say, wherever I may roam…
still this October day
shall be my home
this sun-fucked
dappled day