some thoughts, redundancies.

not so much blue bonnets
and the grass kept
recognized for pleasure

but the dandelions
coming up against
and despite

and not so much the blue
bonnets or the dandelions

but maybe the stepping
cross acres
through them and past

well still standing
and through all that pollen

it is something
to still be standing

and in the flesh of it






by no light given,
i can force you to
stumble, spend more time
and leave with skinned
knees.

when you go home, it
will be to lover's questions
and you will have to
reckon with me again.

me because those words
are not water, rather
choice.

when you are through with
me, in the window
box, there is time
for you, and he,
and she.




And a word on Hallmark and cliche. If those, sentiments, are the words i need, the very words, i will take them back. I am jealous of people who can speak and use these words without the guilt.