MAGPIE TONGUES
Trillium breath, an ounce
of feathered growth unravels
in the cloves of the silent forest.
The rain is heavy with the stamp
of perfumed trees realizing
slight restraint on bursting seed.
Cloaked in fragrance, tufts
of mossy step kiss the opening earth,
a basement horizon presumes
the darling test of flower
across dale & rustling nook,
then undresses moist greenery
with sumptuous eye.
The last is hardest -
cat crimson, a fire weed sunset lotion,
the rain erased away;
nobody special harangues the leaves
but birds steal in quietly with
tenderness clothed of verdure
to pinch a leafy oasis about
their forest haunt.
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PLUMS & VINE
Plums and vine (as the Atlantic is green)
intone the heavy church wall
with errant sprigs, so Heaven sent
they are big with earthly passion
racing for the sky.
Madonna Poverta in her midst
with the pulpit clutching Light -
so gnarled, like bush, that each crevice
reeks with stone
all stooped under such worldly avarice.
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