morning writing exercise - domestic (plus magic)

drip trays full of rosewood oil

are poisoning the peace lilies

as the sunlight also poisons them

chained as they are to the outside

and to that deathly perfume –

temporary fences raised

patio battle lines drawn

papers pulped under hot water

balled between unclean fingers

borne by ill-conceived winds

urging one way urging her

on her knees down the glistening stairs

down the sparsely-grassed embankment

down the sunken river banks

down the roots of thirsting trees

to the turbid, lovelorn depths

of the rosewood oil waters –

floating on the surface, four

pairs of Lucite insect wings

one pair of breathtaking legs

- pushed and pulled like tractor gears

poisoned red by the sunlight - 

that someone better ought to care for.