3

In a garden, candle flowers.

A tide of wind comes in
From the coast, and leads
The blooms to nod, and nod.

The moon shivers in
Upturned leaves of ivy,
In ephemera of algea

Swelling the ornamental pond,
In the sinewed limbs and
Hollows of an oak.

Starlight tangles frogspawn.
Eggs and old light
And a studded placenta

Birthed the same in some
Pool of darkness beyond
Starfactories, in reeds.

Hours pass. The candles,
Burnt down, begin to blur
Toward such an old light.