When I wake there’s a thousand eyes in my java. I glow like a worm in a cave.
I yawn when the wren chirps and dew, drops from a blade of emerald. I sip the world
with my open eyes.... while holding my breath for ransom.
I see mortal rabbits, dancing in the underbrush
with ravenous fur and sleek plump.
Dark pupils, coy where the picket fence is delusional.
where nature found a way to ignore the perimeter
in favor of the expanse
and my humble
domicile… squatting on a patch
of Here and Now.

You can’t do one thing, without doing two things…
This only occurs to me on the porch,
in the rocking chair.
and I’m okay
with that.