And the bay, not purple
but purple
in this light, addresses
all who pass by it
with its uncountable,
jelloing tongues. "You
didn't come here to stay. You
came to put on calcite
layers. To let what's inside
grow, or change,
or become, what you'll become
when you no longer come
here."

Most don't listen, they watch
the wind
make a dead leaf hop.