green iridescence, brown
mottling in steelgray
rainlight, the mallards
wade into the puddle,
discover it’s just that;
at some point fallen
sweet gum pods & fir
needles will merge in brown
soil—for now that metal
slide draining water,
unoccupied blue &
yellow see-saws, two crows
calling from high above as
sky unravels—
years we haven’t been
together, these days, hours
© 2017
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for stopping by & sharing your thoughts. Please do note, however, that this blog no longer accepts anonymous comments. All comments are moderated. Thanks for your patience.