When you live alone with no one else

what’s left to do but fight with yourself?

Over sex. When you masturbate

how long does it take before you quarrel

with your style? One more mile

and you’re out of control. The corral

just keeps numb animals dumb. Lucky for you

they come around for watering and feed.

A dozen roosters in the chicken pen

pecked your pair of hens to death.

You get what you expect, yes? Better

than anyone else. But on kind days

when the weather’s fine and bluebirds nest

and the slag in your pond is settled

you’re the good-looking neighbor nodding

to the clear-eyed children bicycling by.

You wave them over to test their bait.

You’ve fixed bowls of crusts to give them

for them to feed your geese.

In the new stall your new foal stands

like a quick shadow nuzzling its mother.

The garden’s tilled and sown and mulched.

The bank’s renegotiated your loan.

The stone lions that guard your gate

practically lay down with the lambs.