a yard of grace

I dreamt our fenced in leaves formed wings today

Their human arrows aimed necessarily 

At dancing laughter

At a worm’s rose fever 

It tramples the reminded mother underfoot 

What is nostalgia if not for Heaven

Run fast enough

Hope carries you before

While leaping high too

To the western pine unwound

For you, the dirt grows tall 

Water and blossom shoots unfurl

Thick for mourning

By what sense is that silence sounded

Being, rocked into an azure bath

Sky bodies in constant motion

Their pressure unsure at their lack of age 

Bewildered by the difference between

A bead of broken glass

& a fur tipped seed

A familiar print plant

Throbbing verdant red

Our petal filled dream