cinquain

Violets

2005-04-30T13:29:00.000-04:00

How they
sag, honeybee,
each one, as you lick from
their middles and hang by your six
black legs.

2005-04-25T13:37:00.000-04:00

On the
puddle's bottom,
beside the filter from
a cigarette, your drowned body
turns white.

2005-04-19T23:05:00.000-04:00

In my
wake where the clumps
of matted leaves had been,
titmice flit and tear earthworms from
the dirt.

2005-04-11T16:20:00.000-04:00

Nestled
into the bark
of a maple tree, the
gray moth looks dead until I
touch it.

2005-03-20T21:09:00.000-05:00

Look, by
my boot, where the
roof drops furrow the snow,
a bee, fresh from the dripping eaves,
unfolds.

2005-03-04T11:53:00.000-05:00

Crushed
kadup, kadup
into the gray asphalt
and forgotten, "I'm late for work,
raccoon."

2005-03-01T00:11:00.000-05:00

I can't
go fast enough
towards it, this fat blue sky,
this flood above my knuckles and
the wheel.

2005-02-27T10:56:00.000-05:00

Beneath
her new silk blouse,
past the cotton fibers
of her bra and freckled skin, lung
cancer.

2005-02-15T23:43:00.000-05:00

Listen.
What does the moon
tell us about living?
It is dead white and dried out like
a bone.

2005-02-11T20:02:00.000-05:00

Outside
this window, just
past the condensation
of my breath, there's a murder of
whiteness.

2005-01-30T17:40:00.000-05:00

As the
squirrel gathers
himself on a young pine,
the maple branch he left behind
quivers.