Recursion

Yet once more, we plunge down the hill

in a nose dive that rolls into somersault

and somersault

and somersault

until the knoll flattens and 

gravity glues our backs to the forage.


We lay a minute, nestled in the blades,

fragile like a flower is fragile,

laced into the soil with a lark’s head

until plowed over by a tractor.


I was a dreamer, once; when your voice raised

I’d think of fractals and blooming orchids,

life outside the mason jar.

Yet once more, we plunged down the hill.

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We'll Forget Together

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peeling shrimp because my mind is a crustacean