Constant stars
shoot odd remarks
at innocent clouds
in daylight.

The sun
mediates and
sermons with
lazy drunkenness.

Once
there was a tree
who shivered in
the breeze, and
thought about love
as sleet froze
its roots.

As I sink
through the
depths of
your bones
I sing, for

they blossom
and ring, with
vines and spires
atop ancient
cathedrals.

                      The
gargoyles grin
and I laugh
for the glass
shines in dust.

But where are
you now, as
I soar? The
clouds blind
me.

Calm breathes in the prairie,
Sunburned in dungarees,
The grasses bow at its presence.

Tracing constellations of
veins, blue and branching
vines of the flesh:
windy breath and
gasping air.
Stark, collapsing
bones between
cascading blood.
Thoughts crumple and
rush like quicksand,
stripping memories
of sunshine and
fireworks. Dewdrops
dampen lips and
lashes glued with
taught skin and
a hunger. Love
tags between
pines and brushes
spines and soothes.

Love plays tag
between bushes and
pine cones, with
larks and yews
laughing at dewdrops.
Sunshine explains
philosophy to widowed
bees and lonely
gnats in springtime.