It's Still Life

The Old Woman’s Unwritten Rules

let the crow steal.
it’s not theft if it wants to be lost.
(this applies to buttons,
grief, and the last biscuit.)

feed the robin sunlight.
if it sings, you owe it nothing.
if it doesn’t,
you still owe it nothing.
that’s the trick of love.

when the neighbour’s cat knocks over the milk,
blame the wind.
the wind has thicker skin
and no reputation left to ruin.

keep one spoon in your pocket
for the day you meet a stranger
who remembers hunger.

never trust a door
that doesn’t creak—
or a silence that doesn’t.

if you must haunt,
haunt gently.
the living are as fragile
as eggshells full of thunder.