Today it is enough
to pour the orange juice.
To push down the lever
on the toaster.
To feed the fish and the kids
and water the orchid
and return one call.
A woman could be buried
by all the things
she thinks she should do.
It might take her years
to crawl out from beneath that weight.
And so today
I find refuge in the fact
that I made the bed.
That I was a lap
for a cat.
That I caught a mouse
in the carrot row
and I let him go.