the pulse stilled but the eyes shine. beside the body the head
of pink camellia.
it’s dead cold two nights on the road then he’s gone because
there’s no more business.
it wants a blanket. remember when the cloud parts the sparrow song
in the morning with
spring but here. the house breathes, trees aspire to the pied sky
of our solitude.
shoot me when i’m half there twitched & burn; rake my leaves
dry of winters &
cut the heads of daisies. mow the lawn &/ um/ trash the mantra
because we’re not actually moving but in circles y’know
which doesn’t count.