swimming in the sea that is the wind

swimming in the sea that is the wind

swimming in the sea that is the wind

blacking beneath the metronome,

this jig upon the corner’s flatulence, of

picking at leaves soon to be the leftovers 

of the storm’s disrespect. 

when a thousand suns dance upon the daisies

that is the summer wind. winding down now

the unwinding of the runner beans. well i mean,

you know, how is this, that these days are? well you know?

well enough how what can is cannot and what is cannot be.

so now we venture afield, winding in the choices of

lanes running the decisions that the wind fled.

that the ruination of thoughts survived in eyes

lemon sunned with the rime of salt. yes you fall now

with me upon this, but tomorrow it will be different.

a different wind will or will not be - we.