| A red handled broom | and matching dustpan | one day they will meet the terrace. |
| a walk in the morning | the wish for peace but listening to a podcast | The view at minute 46: spectacular |
| Teen operating vacuum | a win | Let’s leave it at that. |
| If we/they design | for wishes rather than needs | who gets what and is it nothing |
| Tiny flyers | posted | an invitation I don’t quite believe |
| Pollen, dust, dirt | brushed, brushed, gathered, swept | clinging in crevices still |
| Prepare the chicken | boil the noodles | a meal emerges, lacking |
| New broom standing | natural even | red handle striking and ready. |
edifiedlistener 
I. Love. This. (One of the reasons I admire poets so much is that you can see both the world and language in ways that never occur to me!)