Cape summer

My mother is slicing strawberries
and talking to herself
On television Haley Joel Osment’s an angel
and oboe and orchestra come from the kitchen

My mother talks to a cat now
She caught my eyes
as I walked
to the study to find a pencil

I have found myself, too
standing by an olive tree, speaking
to look up and be caught by a German
who heard my hissing

We are the ones
with people in our heads