DAY

Day, lightful -
the timmering spicules
of fettling quivers -

olives in the golden grapples 
of tinderness
with just enough leafloss 
to let in skyblue

through the screen 
of the ever turning treedance.
This fall-for loveliness 
coverts attendance 

where from my highup-view window
gazing in eyelack unbeddedness
I am blessed, a guest
at this spectacle, and plant my full great thanks-
ironic in gratitude.  

More-rose, I would be deadheaded;
withered with the other wild ones 
if it weren't for this silly-window 
where I have been picked to stand 

semi crystallized in glassy water -
the lone one left to pine 
on a severed stem. Day is lightful
until dark necessitates ends
for friends.