Poem on Things

An old knowledge of reality
Shawls neglected objects in its dust—

The tidy stack of slim paperbacks
The moon levitating on a shelf

The decorative red teakettle
The blinking green and amber modem

The framed pencil sketch of the garden
Stolen after sin had blasted it

The napkins on the wall calendar
On the counter beside the toaster

And the bag of the misdirected
Mail for the previous occupant—

Every object’s a sign as soon as
You need to say something about it