Seen and Unseen

First published in Here, There, and Everywhere: Redmond Association of Spokenword Anthology, Michael Dylan Welch, editor, Redmond, Washington: RASP, 2013.

my feet tapping the floor
of gravity’s heartbeat

a wasp nest hung to decorate the rafters
by the salad tongs of diversity

the path of sunlight across the table, up the wall, and disappearing
into the emotional upheaval of dandelions

bamboo leaves swaying, green against yellow stalks,
against the tension of sky

the smell of coffee breath puffed from your mouth
like memory’s garden hose

unlit Christmas lights along the eave
through the conjugation of fritillaries

mistaking a birdbath for a sundial at noon
while capillaries disagree on the nature of God

stones crunching under my Birkenstocks
beside the antlers of memory

flagstones cracked by tiny flowers,
by abstract definitions of hate

a rope swing silent though I expect a creak
while the muse blows its nose

the black sound of the crow beyond the copse
a home for wonder