sitting on a lazy chair,
bones locked in place.
as rain randomly falls
through a breeze like
scattered seed.
wholly intent on the green
sway it compels, i reach out
my hands to absorb the stir.
imprint the latest turning, and
run them across my face.
seeing what sees through me so much
better now, wet all over with the
shoosh of passing cars.
raising the goblet that wets the beak
of a black bird, hailed king of my ghost town.