Overcast morning,
cool and grey.
The cat bends low to drink
from the swimming pool
like a tiger at an oasis.
I bend to snip off
a few dead twigs
from a miniature orange tree
with its miniature oranges.
In an hour I will talk
to some students about a poem
I wrote over 30 years ago.
I think I will start off
by telling them about
the miniature orange tree
with its miniature oranges
in a terracotta pot by the pool
and just go from there.