It surprises you like pulled weeds,
the mailbox, level, and garbage
taken out to the curb. It will not be deterred—
even when your steps call for deck screws.
There are no more spider webs
and the dead leaves have been
collected neatly in the yard.
You think of one-syllable synonyms:
Food, sleep, paint, fire.
Comfort lives in these wonted things
and That Word really means:
“I will clean the bird shit off the siding,”
because the Warbler in the beams
needs a place to nest.
And who are you to disagree?