At Diamond Creek

Only this, the blue whisper of the leaves
and strips of pale bark
hanging high by the creekbed,
quiet, decorative, inconsequential, only

this, the black flower that blossoms
in the chest of a woman
until she can no longer breathe,
until her voice becomes

silently strangely sneakily
slowly this, the blue whisper of the leaves
and strips of pale bark
hanging high by the creekbed,

quiet, decorative, inconsequential,
awaiting the next storm of flames.

(From lemon oil)

What do you think?