Adele lived in a home

where the furniture reasoned itself

into place.

She did not create but became

swept up in oak armoires

and massive pieces, she could

neither move nor tolerate.

Though aware that her lover

would leave her soon, she was

unable to shed her gestures at pleasing:

she was expert at conciliation

especially in the good times.

After the parting she managed

to push the recliner close to the window

changing her perspective

from the cat box to the sun.

The armoire went into the storage shed

and the patterns of her caftan

swirled and clung, musky with possibilities.