small floral petals

i might be gone, but the sand and the blades of grass remember my steps and my song, and the small things i lost from my pockets: loose buttons and scraps of wrapping or chewing-gum, occasional chestnuts and leaves almost crumbled. now the trees have me, their roots sucking up minerals that made up my […]

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To bring

The April showers Have chunks of ice, Leaflets of snow and some Heavenly grit That hits the newly thawed ground With its shy blades of grass Like an unwelcome surprise. The wedding-happy sparrows Do not care, they fret And they leap, picking On the small seeds And each other, they Are not bothered as the […]

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subtly against

I have this against the world, one white bird, cut in the indigo sky, changing, banking left and write in the wind that feels nothing. One white bird, an avian denominator, coming forth between then and here to steer straight into the sun and burn. Cut in the indigo sky, changing the music of planes, […]

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contest

green, black, round, fragrant, sweet — unattached, ready to roll. between your fingers, almost bursting — thin skin, juicy, small. pick them up one by one, lift — firmly, not letting go. they will obey, each one in its place — collapse in agony, bleed. onto your tongue, simple sugars, sap — nutrients you need. […]

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at Güstrow

polished pollen shy away from mother catkins to greet the starlings thronging above, round and round, fresh from the stars that bore them dancing through late winter each unaware of the other and so engage with the copper beeches unable to shed their seed as the autumn fell to early flutter along the willow’s white […]

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a pale view of gulls

it’s snowing again making the sky pale some featherly, some finely ground flakes obscure the antics of all the world’s seagulls rejoicing in flight white on white, and grey upon grey outlined by black pinions the gulls soar avoiding the descent of criss-cross crystals whilst the very indistinct crows hold on to the weeping branches […]

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the days will grow longer

the trees wore white like brides of the hoarfrost, standing tall under the veil of the pale cloud-intoned sky. not only the pines, birches and maples, and lindens, and aspens, even the spruces had dressed their hands in white spikes to pierce the shorter days of the year. an unobtrusive sun peeked over the treeline […]

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