Resections(II);
Temple Lawn Dwelling
Classic pruning. Told the excess to wait in the storm drain.
Told the iris to fragment and the willow to rout.
Told the prevailing storms to get out.
Told the hours swaying in the tulip poplar
to stop dropping blooms on the lawn.
(Told the tree again, I really do think it’s time to move on.)
I motioned and I gestured, I pointed and I prodded, I sat me down;
it sadly mattered. Spring
overwhelmed.
I only wanted
a crush that dripped
the fat of a leaf-bud
that dripped
at two o’clock approximately
from the tree
a color descended
into or out of the clouds you could not say
where it came from
and the sky put on;
a green dress
its emerald dress
and the eyes accepted
the yellow and thick-dangled
thick accepting
flowers.
–all the contrast
myself,
wisteria, a purple figure fugue
over the church and the neighbor’s