Lay for the Day18th
A seasonal song.
It starts with a bump; bright, unmistakable tints.
Mint slants through the grit like fuses, balm discloses
a leaf wrinkled like foil, vigorous and spreading.
The scarlet creepers points set foot on unmapped brick
and some buds on the branch, thumbs-up and multiple,
plump for ghost-white blossom. Shes never so human,
Nature, as in her childhoods gradual, careless time.
Lay Reader: an archive of the poetic calendar