I live in a cookie-size housebetween bigger brick loaves.
There’s as much to love
and be loved in my cozy space.
Just kick off your shoes inside the door.
The cat will think it’s time to eat
and wrap around your ankles,
purring and pushing you toward her dish.
See the books on the stairs
shelves, floor and table?
You might find a good mystery or sci-fi.
Go ahead and dive into a story.
If you’re hungry, tomatoes grow
out back, beneath the kitchen window sill
by the basil and parsley gone-to-seed.
Don’t mind backpacks, socks,
homework papers, water bottles.
These are feathers of squawking teens
now at roost somewhere.
Come on in, find a spot.
The zucchini bread is fresh.
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