This poem is called Still Life for Mark.
"Dull glass can barely make out night.
Red hands of a clock separate us.
Now a lush peony is climaxing in silence.
A penny for your thoughts, sister.
There are the apples we bought on Saturday.
I twinkle across the distance and don't really
know your point of view.
Are we the glass the world pours into or is it our love
that saturates the world?
Do tell, my friend.
By day when the phone starts ringing and you
are mine in no time."