Lady Slipper
It's dark behind the image
as if signaling the advance, or retreat,
of some larger movement
This slipper will not fit any foot,
human or animal that walks the woods
Something rare and, like so much else, endangered
Clematis Looking Down at Us
Like fallen stars
but oversized
great violet wheels descending on tame,
unwary
villages below
those little folk of summer
Some explosion still in process
above its precious hanging garden
of over-extended
leafage
a red parachute
welcomed by so much green
A gamble of coins tossed in a pot
born on the edge of a bare, spare
world... See me it says and remember
Wisteria
A Rough Patch
The sweet woodruff are a close-knit people
Nothing is handed out,
the others push in at the edges
They are white on top
like old men in Florida
They are herdsmen of the themselves
They mass, invaders of the sog, the wettest green of all
Prophets of the life to come
Cabbages are kings
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