rain is popping

off my awning

now--it's as if

i can see a herd

of droplets scattered

to quench the ground.

saturation is an incredible

symbol.

when a snake

camouflages its

tied rope--sleeping

with fangs sealed

in its mouth.

a hush moves through

a jungle.

a smear of

passing...

wonderfully

drawn from.

Now I-I can

taste water.

there existing

no remenant,

but that Taste.

as flies juggle around

a riff of silence--a beat

is pardoned from time.

those little eyes smiling

at the wind-down of April.

where the tremulo of a

web string supersedes two

tree limbs, and undocumented

little birds stay at beauty's bomb.

what is it to watch

a single green leaf

become a Geisha...

reflecting the sunlit

transparency of another

leaf?

as if it were her own

silhouette.