HERE you go -there you are
sweetie, and in counter-rhythm I will dance.
Spring forth from an offering of flowers
and follow the sentiment to its destination: no
tangent, but a whim blown forth as a piece
of pollen, as a message to the warming earth
to advance half a step in the great revolution
we know ourselves as. I need the kickback
from this shot to fuel my bloodless coup
and clip stems in constant decoupage, petals
falling left and right around our feet
while young trees are born, mature, and are
harvested for paper collated into
a description of themselves and reborn in
compost. the mind re-works each gift
into an approximation of where one stands
in time.