Grass and leaves—sullen soil, proud forage, upon
a petal—pinecones surrounded by dust
and dirt, feeling dusky skies; a near phantom,
life giving ink by course-ness. Unzipped
atmosphere, gloved knuckles, nature has a
morgue waiting; the leopard fraught by fatigue,
faced by existence, hungered, filled with instinct;
homemade cauldrons, a universe unaccepting,
rivaling, made aggressive—most passive winds.
White birds. Black swans. Beauty and tragedy.
Resistance—insistence.
Violin in stereo—skies most vigil,
most are self-watching, trying at goodness,
paving integrity, failing inhibition,
worried about The Great Intuition. Rain
mizzling. Deathbeds haunting. Existence
as source of its existence. Upon a
rose, painting petals, a toddler in her
sandbox. A man will live in his dreams,
celebrating his youth, becoming by
pride and prudence. Grass and leaves—sullen soil,
proud forage, upon a petal—pinecones
surrounded by dust and dirt, feeling dusky skies.
