In a Yard with Roses

Wayward poppy seeds 
on flimsy paper plates,

the empty 
macaroni salad bowl,

green peeling paint 
on metal chairs,
a chipped blue veil 
on the Virgin Mary's head,
in a yard with roses, 
looming rain clouds, 
a spider
and broken statues, 
in a yard with bees 
that hover too near me 
and this, my amazing 
bratwurst sandwich,
we eat, 
though it is raining on us, 
we eat, 
though we'd rather eat inside.