everywhere, glimpses

of other wilds

poke through

our creature’s

slow path:

a pink ajuga

appears staidly


then spreads towering


a mounded spot of soil waiting

for blue, sky blue, evolvolus blue

salvia blue, coral blue


blue space



blues sing of blues

sing of morning pinks

burnishing leaves

with light from

the wandering

side of the world,

sing of snail trails

of amazement



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Grafting a cherry tree

Imagine that I graft onto a cherry tree.


I practice first, for although this cherry

weeps, its stiff branches are rigid

and unmoving and show no sign

of life.


I ponder how I could

hold its grafted trunk so that

we would meld into one breathing spring,


a shade of blossoms

which would fill the corner

for twenty more years…


If I need to

I will start again

lifting the soil, turning, tilling, trying


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