Morning

The garden will take care of itself
It feels lonely pulling vines with empty hands
I cannot spare a moment to blink
A line that goes on and on and ever on
Till silence reigns; tug hands; black hearts
Leafy snakes rub, wrap against the wrinkle ofbrown skin
Twist fingers
Tendril spouts fire of blossom
Currents and undercurrents of pollen
Falling like buttercup tears
Falling like sleep dust cover
Meadows of now
I cannot remember ever having breathed
In stopped-up silence
Powdered lillies
White weeds wait, expectant
Beside my bed