The butchered rose that lives
its afterlife upon you throat.
Each Spring
Each spring,
the cherry blossoms break
from the tree,
unafraid to be homeless,
content to flutter briefly
before wilting in
the gutter or the stream.
Decay is part of their story,
the twist that demarcates
beauty from litter.
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.