A stranger’s daughter waits in the alley, a hat in her hands.
Our calico cat stares at her from his fence post perch. It starts
to rain, lightly. When a blue truck arrives, she enters without words.

The milk stinks of grass, so I send my husband to the store, black
umbrella and all. The children cling to my legs like pants.
I hear them better than my own thoughts.

When the rain stops, I send them screeching into the mud.