Golden light as the day winds down, cottonwood blooms like snow. They got lived in, those cushions out back. Cheap speakers in the garage but they fill the space. We opened the bay doors and put out our lawn chairs, hung tapestries and Christmas lights. Blew out the cobwebs and put on mix tapes. The cat brought in a bird and I composted it with a bag from the Sunday paper. Mondays are best for jazz. Smooths over the transition from Sunday, lets you know everything’s going to be okay. A lot worse has come before. Listen to the horns, and don’t mind the dust when the light fills your room.