Branches and Petals

Mr. Simples
had an affair with
something he said he could read.
Still could not keep himself alone free.
That alone enough was fond of he.
And pointing away in pulsive dream:
"I wouldn't or I would" said he,
"to jump out so as nightime would rather
not speak
or that hiding
in branches and petals make
more weary?"
"Who is this?" says the sundialing
of branches and petals,
"as do hot and cold feelings
with or without branches and petals
give a better description of Mr. Simples?"
Those things left across
the edges of the night to read.
Don't shake your hands of them
and teethe.
Their smooth surfaces further out
a passage.
As rain and fog gets attention without fuss
let it work and smooth what is before us.