Sunlight and tree limbs sway across the back fence, An Indonesian shadow play. The villain is my aloe vera In the large clay pot.
The mind rubs against the landscape like a branch scraping against window glass. Fence railings blind with solar white. A sliver of barren mountain
I never weeded smoke so it roomed with a ghost wearing starlight all day. My ancestors shivered with me. I swallowed campfire heat with
Lycaeides melissa samuelis Tucked inside the confines of its tiny wings, the whole sky. As it flies, the two blues blend, and it seems