Vision

What my eyes do see.

VISION
August 15, 2004


I embrace the living
umbrella and lie in the shower
of the sun. It drenches
its branches and gilds its leaves
and makes pale and shiny
the warm details
that drip into shadows,
swallowed up in pockets and places
the sun cannot reach--
I uphold the backyards
where shadows lie, growing
as the sun descends
behind fences and trees
and sheds and tall brown
blades like dry tongues
that lick the air
like king browns
and rattle like snakes
in the wind. I go below
the stratocumulus
and hold them like
weights above my head
as the sunset spills down
mountain peaks and puddles
in the ocean splashing up
stars and I blink. At last
the dark has come and
I close my lids and sleep.