SUNSHOWERS

Flowerstricken

(Art by Sandro Botticelli)

Being outside is wishing
To go back to the
Swing sets of my childhood. There, I forgot
What the ground
Was all about. I feel the
Sky stain my lungs and
Bring my laughter
To seep out like butterflies.
I want something
Romantic with the
Wind; it's an invisible
power. I dwell with

My privets to get a
Better experience of
Them. They feel soft and
Well with my soul.
Every good verse I've
Lost has been replaced
By better ones.
I wonder what the
Daisy Lady makes of
The Grass. The blue
Bugles have disbanded
From their gentle purple blooms; so
Have her and I, from
Each other, for now. I sing the
Lyrics to "Hey Ya!" In a minor tone -

To myself -
For all the people I've
Given my feelings over to.
Don't I still love them? Don't
Interrogate me about it.
I have too many hearts to argue.

Who's gonna smoke
Up the honeysuckles
With me? Cummings?
Sagawa? These May fluorescences
Smell so pear-like I
Could enclose my mouth

Around them. I see the
Earth as a blueberry,
Squeezed, bursting
Tartly on my taste
Buds. The sounds of
Private lives come to
Me in the distance,
As wheels rumble on
Highways, debris tumbles in weed ways.
The cowbirds hum because
That's what they do when they're nervous.
I twirl on gentler impulse in my LBD. The

State of nature twirls with
Me. The ghosts of
Posthumous azaleas haunt
Me. I forget about the
Brevity of life until
It gets too brief. So I
Live, until I then forget what
Time it is. The warmth running laps
Through my chest and the
Dopamine wading through my head
Is far more
Important.
This Saturday feels all
Soft
And well

With my soul,
Too.