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Honeycombed

On lazy days…
Uncombed,
you become a bed of country wildflowers
and I imagine…
when I bend to aerate with pronged fork,
the wind gently breaks petal shapes,
spires, cups and bowls, spikes and bells,
where stevia (sweeter than sugar) is planted
side by side to the labiate of Salvia texensis.

Where the pink urceolate of Erica hang,
white and reds of fragrant roses dominate
I imagine…
that our morning glory already covered
with the glitter of early dew unfolds,
spreads its curled villi into heart-like shades
only to reveal and simultaneously conceal
rhythmic contractions, a rainbow’s potpourri
of glitter’s flowing pride into the welcome space

that is always found behind the roar of waterfalls,
moss walls, a cave … where our solitude gathers tranquillity
and memories of early climbs to peaks
that once were marshmallow dreamscapes
triumphant in their certainty of rushed, perpetual flow
of purest clarity to satisfy a hiker’s thirst
and quench a sudden appetite besetting hungry souls
just as light raindrops from a promised morning sky.

A C0-Production from

Emancipation Planz and Herbert Nehrlich

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