Here is a sneezewort

grateful your crazy-paving's cracked.

Determineded by sun, determined by rain.

     Similarly me-

your light words drift over us both

(who naturally heed not a word)

a few notes on the old piano sketch

avenues of heartache, or belonging.

     Of magic? Maybe. No more than a hint

of choux pastry scent by the garden path.

This way a sneezewort finds relish in

the one place roots gain strength.