a windchill nipping at the heels,
de jou a viv,
primordial nostalgia,
molasses mood,
waxing awe,
lunitidal left,
the second rose bloom of summer
perched atop the tongue,
a careful rabbit moving pause to pause;
be still
bathe in sunshowers
call to the eastern dawn
and share your prayers;
may they rise with the force
of the waking sun,
may they ferment
as dusk becomes midnight hour,
may formless friends bless them
as they rot and remake;
be liquid and loving
be wild and kind
languishing in the trickster’s kiss
nothing is left undone