American bittersweet

on his gravestone low as the sun

picnic for one

in the autumn forest
white hair aglow
a wild lettuce seed
drifts past

to hit the road
goldenrod

let me put on
my rain hat

two caterpillars sleeping
in each other’s fur

the whole milky way
between crickets

woken by a text
about birds

split off from its lost half open mouthed

fog walker  the millipede’s carpet  of legs

swamp forest  hugging the bucket  of blueberries

wearing my halo  of poison

one last Mason jar
of white lightning