|Fire flies luciferase
incandescence spades through
The word catawba was lost in translation of..
Wilting lavatera at twilight projects a common order,
humility in-synch with rustling rhythms and urgent pitches. This
train blow is no less significant than an early owls
whoo hoo striking a perfect G of necessity.
Summer fisks us lightly,
though hoodwinked, noosphere,
pierced echo from the west;
Cross pollinates the silverfish and magpie;
this blood-orange and segmental hearts of palm.
Someone fled through on a zipline.
I have learned the uselessness of collection:
a tattoo of Michelangelos Pieta:
a dying monk:
a robin ravishes her last worm.
The zinnia lasted longer than expected with tall stalks, leaves arching for rain water.
Dahlia has now bloomed, facing south
and sweetpeas cling to their sweetness:
as if none of this ever happened.