The leaves are numerous,

Noon illuminated,

Nearly neon green,

Consuming light the clouds can’t catch—

While the wind’s whims

Dance branches like puppet limbs

With systems of cool air

(the canyon’s companion)

Quick to rollick life by the roots—

Scattering excesses

Like charcoal blown off sketches—

Constant— as time constitutes

Pollen-powdery as eyeliner messes

Batting looks at chalkboard lessons

The mortified student

Scribbles glorified guesses

(hypotheses on the pressed pulp of trees)

Hand in your papers, please

(she expressed what she believes)

A+

And these whole days are spent

Ardent,

Mute by the window

Watching cars pass where the cats once played

Whisking like a whisker; a serenade; a whisper;

A budding glen to flooded glade to muddy river

To desert’s end

When we enter

What lies beyond

Where frond tips dip

Rippling heaven’s pond

Its song is uncomplicated

You know the breeze’s touch

You love it just as much as they did

(out of time—an instant is more than they waited)