The fog lifts, revealing solitary stalks coated in dew, new white ruffles draped over sleek green stems grazing the grass like a wedding gown,
One thing becomes another. For instance a spiderweb and a mosquito turn valences of water into a dance of silk and spindle. These, in
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,