visual capacity of undefined language -
or maybe it was
indefined
illdefined
predefined

whatever it was,
you motioned to me, fingers swinging
like birch tree limbs
in that quiet time between autumn
and winter;

you were telling me
about the river and the winter
and how the more it snows,
the more the mighty Mississippi would flow
during cottonwood season -

"good habitat for rotten tires and bleach jugs,"
you'd say, because
sarcasm was always
your best
Sunday Suit:

all i could think of was the settling
of the ripples on my exposed feet,
the smell of magnolias dying in the wind,
and the sound of a thousand bees
crying to be set free.