Expression of a Homeplace

If I close one eye
and don’t turn my head
I can see with clarity
what’s on one side of my nose.
A familiar country exposes
itself, phlox blossoms,
half a cement drive,

half a car, a whole swath
of lawn, and farther up
the street, houses of neighbors,
trees on the parking,
a satisfying view of where I live,
enough to give me the expression
of a homeplace.

The robin left her mud-glued
nest of sticks and said
to the woodpecker, ‘‘Who
would live shut up in
a hole in a dead tree?’’
The woodpecker replied,
‘‘Who would live anywhere else?’’