Geranium Beast,

biggest I ever saw, forever brawling with

and tangled all through a haggard cypress,

 

wasn’t camouflaged, but more like

accidentally blended, with its scent.

 

It reared up on a thousand nobby legs,

spitting sticky, pink,

half-wilted

petals that went with me when I went,

 

though it was years before I realized its intent.

 

Life Without Mirrors

Water in a clean glass,

saving pot shards in a bucket,

singing just to sing—
just to throw the door wide.

Four seeds, two seedlings,

untidy shelves,

a bird,

and low sun raising mist on a wet porch.