I can’t be what I am
For I can see
There’s something else
To envy:
The scent of the sunny side
Egg flower
—The two dogs who carry one stick
In their mouths—
The gnats who dance in rapturous patterns—
The egret in thickened muck who sleeps
The sun’s rays down,
Pond skin jostling like a skirt—
Even the brown summer stalks that
Accept the drape of white
Sunned glaze
Are secure in their nobility,
Their purpose is their essence,
Organic
As breathing—
While I, I go crazy
Being only an eye,
The richness of it all
Goes into my system.
We want to become everything
Because we are nothing.
A quiver comes over us
Not like the breeze that
Thinks the bees
To the roses.
Dust rises from shoes,
Ignites the late air,
Stilling the moment, only for us
And only for us come violet spheres
Bubbling from the sun
—Letting us in on the secret—
They dance like the gnats
And join into shapes
Of violet, blue, maroon and green energy
In pendulous sway of glistening light
And fly out over the water.
We all see it.
But then the periwinkle mist rolls in from the sea
To cover the spreading sun
--Too much incandescence, it’s too acute,
Too naked this revelation
We’re not supposed to view…
Fading to purple like the carrot
With the red, red leaf.
