What sinks down must 
also rise. My garden 

is dry, the soaker hose
has sprung a leak.  

I’ve almost forgotten
the curve of your 

cheek, distinctive
while smiling,

(a cheek of all things?)
The garlic has sent

out scapes, two 
radishes are bolting,

and all day everyone
has been singing,

the strangest thing.
Even the workman

in the empty apartment
next door could not 

refrain, a few lines 
of some Spanish pop

song that I don’t know
but now find myself 

humming.