CHANGE OF SEASON

1.

The cicada’s one kind of song,

rain, thunder,

breath and heartbeat

The bed, the brush

of leaves against the windowscreen

another

Flying past,

the crested serpent eagle beats its wings

The sullen cat

2.

Best not to smell

these pheromones, stamen and pistil

the surging flowers

the swelling air

overloaded olfactories

too close

3.

Shut the window, you say

Petals soon to drop

The Goddess of Mercy’s forehead’s in the cloud

The pale egret beats upward from the bank

featherweight

The crested serpent eagle tilts

The cat’s ears

Who’s playing Chopin Chopin Chopin

amid raindrops

Guess what time it is

                                  now

4.

A kind of night

belongs to low flying hawks

belongs to orange jessamine,

the cautious heartbeat

no stethoscope can make out

This kind of night

becomes a low fever,

a cough

suppressed

but insuppressible

Turn off the lamp, but not the creek

nor the cicada

This dark litany

is ours,

its swimming heat

5.

You make me think

humidity is real, the heat,

its pollen itch, these tears,

this sun swelled red,

dust flecked wind, wrinkled cords of rain

all

palpable Illusion.

You make me think you’re still here

6.

Azure

gaze

The cat’s retina nets the sky,

the crested serpent eagle

The dewflower spreads

summer to autumn

A thunderstorm, then blue