fresh paint
a butterfly lands on the ladder
to have a taste
luna moth
its enormous antennae
attract a harvestman
a forest glade
gracile stalks bending
under the weight of seeds
I’m that yokel
staring as vacantly as I can
at your one-way glass
false solomon’s seal
acts like it doesn’t even know
the shadowy leaves
leafprint in concrete
I wouldn’t have hesitated
to step on the real thing
shadblow
blossoms lost to the heat
in just four days
hepatica
springing through an old fern leaf,
art deco stamens
skunk cabbage
each avoiding the others’
hot, foul breath
mourning cloak on a twig
the forest floor belongs
to the quick bright comma
