Daisy
Bulbuls quill the dusk
to sweetened coils of fading light.
The Barbet’s hammering call
punches the sun in place a while longer.
Last night’s storm
tethers our eyes
to the play of the Northerlies.
Yellow autumn leaves
cling damply to wet roads
like scattered post-its.
And in the flattened grass
a wild, purple daisy
raises its head
chivvies in the breeze
speaks about all the alizarin green
pumiced to a barren brown.
All the birds silenced out of existence.
This lavender daisy. Here. Now.
Holding its ground.
Lightness
a cumulus cloud
weighs one hundred elephants
and after it rains,
less than a flower;
the slightest puff of wind
can make it dance.
When you arrive,
be the rain
turn the heavy cloud of waiting
into a light puff
make raindrops
dance.
Let all that tethered me to darkness,
lie pooled at my feet in a puddle.