~~~>>>>>>>

The forsythia wears your wrist wires
bridges painted by your sash
invisible, forests fallen
the promises of men who went under
neon lights drowned in a conservatory
sleepy quail scurry around
the growth of your limbs has stalled in full flower
you're holding the flag fern of my body
over the county in a tickled bag
to the cut of pedestrian canyons
trickling with moss water
behind the rust brown railway
deeply cluttered with the items of brokenness
you go with music strapped to your head
I silently wrapping and unwrapping
the selected trees.