clover

the find of the century

under a foot most likely

above the excrement

a thousand lichens left

this dirt black as death

a dour leaf clover

groping at the light

green with that one

jagged white stripe

one hundred yards

the hundred yard dash

crashing through the brush

on deer trails over the busted

dam holding back grass

in the granite clearing  

ahead stopping checking 

looking for crawling ticks

a taste a taste

into the pan with those all

alike and round as eyes

primarily special colors

some hot and one cold

at the core soft and white

cooking on stainless

flawless without laws

tastes for all

respite

a breath visible this day

in the sun lungs pump

saturated greenhouse gas

into the dormant plants

leafs dispersed back to earth

sidewalks

lining up in the rain

worms blind to their ways

they think about things

dirt, sun, yesterday all the same

today in the grip of strong rays

they squirm in place and fade

up in the trees robins preen

and speak of their ease

iiowa

dismal as the corn grows

rows and rows heavenly graded

ground going up and down

ploughed back to show the dough

burned black the husks mowed

on fires

bit by bit the saw bites

at certain times not at all

stuck on the push

more than the pull

the ash finds a nice rest

a peculiar tree a niche

one might burn this tonight

expecting heat and light

the pan and the dance

if through the door watch

the wind and all that

revere ware

listing the pots and pans

listening to the pots and pans

ringing and dinging and cooking

variety of sizes of sizzle

quality at the copper bottom

burning thoughts on conduction

 

shopped

standing at the sanding disk

sand spinning a horizontal orbit

fingers visit a burred bit

thin as a knife a blur

thinking about when doing

something with something 

similar someone lost a finger

and lo how they brag

when they grow a finger back

like a lizard grows a tail

like a liar grows a tale 

on fire

on or too near fire to 

feel fine see both

near and from afar

tomorrow onto ought 

the black scorch

marks that earth