Rind of the moon a peels to me, butlered
around the neighborhood planets drink sun
in, chauffeured by momentum in orbit
and thought in accord with prepatterned path.
A red fox at the creek for a quick drink
sees a rufous leaf going nowhere slow
in an easygoing eddy in the stream.
Paint in his eye. And up the easel of
a tree, leaves splash light.
My Friend The Insect
It speaks a sweet squeak and runs from the wind
like lint, though it’s old enough to fly, and
it drinks from the blue blooms with the scent of
The water forms ulcers where famished fish
forage on surface insects. Sunlight flames
flamingo: each current’s a new sinew.
I fell in love and I’m trying to shake
it off, the highs and lows bringing it on
grew in my mind to impossible heart-
set-on what-was-to-come that-can’t-be-real