One long now
made of circadian subsidence
I only have time for something profound
I have time, but
how high is the river tonight?
The keeper of the truth
lives upstairs, where the light is
this dirt has been dirt for a very long time
reaching halfway to the sky.
Photosynthesizing on the sidewalk
drink your flowers in my water
pollinators on backyard branches, blooming
come to my place, down the willow drive.
Dream of you, interrupted-
nobody else can say how the coyote feels
stucco edges wait to feel
the blurring melt of all things alive.
You're all caught up and
There's no one new around you
only the orchestrated hum
of the harvesting hive.
I've been thinking of you, and
that's as far as I get
mull it around in soft canyon sounds
not assurance, but a question-
I'll take all that I can get.