pretty small slender
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calling all calling all my avatars this means
you sister please speak on my behalf with voices
spread in a motet's polyphony on the necessity
the beauty the silver sliver finality of
pretty small slender
unbig yes not large indeed narrow even
nearly unvoiced likely not tall
stand her a boom of bloom in a shot glass
wildflowers or the sorb's budding-and-blossoming
devouring the space amongst branches and lending
life a happy fullness when blazed by the sun when
the day lights up another speckless sky
it is spring sprung and it is a sister in a poem
from a time long ago. the mood narrows. it is
nighttime in april chicago.
a stunning stillness a brief respite
a sleep at the quarter moon
only the trains ramble sporadically the
clickety-clackety call of a metal loon.
