Jigsaw

Tonight I’ll build a puzzle piece by piece,
notice how pleasantly one curved edge fits with another.
A red streak will become a barn roof, and three blue hands will
Fill in the form of a sky.
I’ll piece together hay stacks and silos,
Autumn trees gripping tight at few leaves;
Match gold to gold, red to gold.
I’ll hold the eyes of man in my hands,
The outline of a fist and a pitchfork.
Marci will pace about the room,
Disgusted with her blossoming,
Angry with the tidy house,
Good friends, white shoes. I’ll
Let her brood while I shuffle through pieces
Looking for a corner. And for just a few minutes
My back will be turned to the world;
A world where the sky is falling,
Ground crumbling,
Passing up pieces that I will return to.