My cottage is a single room. Across
a deck and rocky spot my office shed
was built. The wood went soft; the stones grew moss;
I opted to replace them both. Instead
of mixing media or using stone
for every foot, I leaped to wooden planks.
It’s done. It looks as if the space has grown.
I gaze at redwood now, and murmur thanks.

An area I used to use as hall
between two rooms, is now a milled expanse
that begs to be enjoyed. Though leaves will fall
and birds will drop their marks, my plans advance.
I’ll stand an outside couch or table there,
and read or chat on wood in open air.