Sunday, from a Further Garden

I wake to a morning without dread.
The sky’s thrown off its sodden gray coat.

Pain my hips gave me for weeks is gone.
For once, my falsehoods don’t shackle me to shame.

I indulge the quiet of these hours.
Pretend phones may still be left off the hook.

Monarchs hover flowers I thought I’d let die.
I have no intention to buy trite things online.

Today I’m what sails seek in soft tradewinds.
A pretty neighbor waves to me, dawnlight in her hair.

I am not jealous of fame or beautiful eyes.
Grief took an overdue holiday, or fell asleep.

My neighbors have no goods worth coveting.
At dusk, I’ll see myself approaching home in a dark window.

JC Alfier’s (they/them) most recent book of poetry, The Shadow Field, was published by Louisiana Literature Press (2020). Journal credits include The Emerson Review, Faultline, New York Quarterly, Notre Dame Review, Penn Review, Southern Poetry Review, and Vassar Review. They are also an artist doing collage and double-exposure work.