Hang the Parrot

In one quiet corner
Of the cosmos,
A sun pearls a cloud
And a moon disks blue

To indicate to green
Suburban lawns
And leafy streets
Voiced by children

That a cyclic existence
Can be captured from the chaos
And spun on the fingertips
Of families woven

From recurring conversations
About when to water
The potted cactus,
When to eat outside

Under the arbor
By the neighbors' cherry tree,
About how gifted
Is a granddaughter,

How dry is the spring
This year, and how soon
To start the barbecue and hang
The ceramic parrot.