Now wings, now water beneath me come drunken things and clear skies I follow now iron now steam beneath a stream tracks run you
A picnic table in the rain stained with brandy fumes in clear evanescence. Dent it with a fingernail. A last name that when uttered,
The August lilies flower, the butterfly bushes, the rain-bowed tree hydrangea. The garden’s my challenge this morning. To see life steadily and see it