The grass grows without our permission

I am inside each house that passes
somehow,

and my lineage is inside each house. Historically,
I am finite, in this zipped-up costume.

My grandfather sits at the upright
and has learned how to play.

My grandmother
warms

her own ashes in a saucepan by the fireplace.

She smiles like the dusty pages of a book.

Houseplants here represent time.

Four
cats are one grim reaper

and instead, discuss the next move in private.