Jul 1
Early summer’s chromatic abundance,
is everywhere,
in wild exuberance;
somewhere there’s a bleak
landscape of grays and browns
that all the bright colors have been
sucked away from and sent here;
all the shades, all the strategies,
to reach towards the sun
luxuriant unfurling
of flower DNA into petals
presenting their organs of generation
to all pollinators,
come up and see me, right now.
Sep 6
Sep 5
Jun 19
walkabout, this afternoon, to find deep red with busy bee,
pale red with kanji characters,
poppy world full of self,
rising from a bed thought lost,
while yellow bush roses,
and blue fingers, which our maidens know by a grosser name,
showing some purple shared, in the same pot
or shared with satiny iridescence
shimmering around a black hole,
in purple waves
and glitter,
while at rows end, marigold companions
and almost a blooming leaf, twinning stacks climb orthogonally towards sun
and a tannish leaf kind of flowerish
all of which have names that are common
and the uncommon names are all scientific
Sep 5
The color’s right, but
I’m not persuaded these can be crabby apples,
half the size of grapes.
White with yellow pollen curls, one shy bee.
White and golden pollen.
Pale butter yellow, minutes from finishing.
Halloween orange and pollen gold.
Softly spikey, opening for business.
Spiral down and out, dusted from the day’s work.
A table treat, just beyond my screen,
table treasure cut.
Meanwhile, in the grass, sign of summer’s end,
previews colors to come.
May 25
They’ve got all summer now,
so you’d think
there’s no reason for hurry.
But they’ve each signed up for a very particular window.
Get it up, get it open, let it down, thank you ma’am.
It can be a dirty business,
leave you tired, arrayed in droopy fading splendor.
Unless you claim the ground that holds you, the air you breathe.
Unless you’re lemon balm
or peppermint
then nothing messes with you,
you’re locked on for perpetuity.
