The Constellation Tree

To pluck a star

like a fig.

The juice upon the knife

not quite eternity.

A Fragrance

The butchered rose that lives

its afterlife upon you throat. 

Genesis

That evening,

the wind was born in the wings

of a very small bird.

Sometimes the morning

Sometimes the morning

arrives like a sledge.

Nervous Pilot

The hummingbird skates

about the flower's jar

as if dodging the strokes

of some invisible blade.

A Vessel

I no longer wish to stand

in judgment of the weather.

Instead, to be a vessel,

like an open blossom

preparing itself for

insects, air, and rain.

to collect but not covet,

to contain but not possess.