Summer

The air is colliding as sown-movement rings
with the sweet flowers bathing talkative
in the car driving slants of curved sides in
the skull of an oriole, firmly tapering stems
tweak among lost houses star-calm with sharp
caught-crawlers sobbing the moon from early
clouds pulled white out of their flocks of new
formless steps of river cooking sleep next
to the mountain-heads of sky, and now to creep
a little noiseless to here a rumor
leave its born in the sigh of piles of heaved
foot-steps faint against motion as blurred
in the shades of slanted houses sun-tan
receiving wandered bugs in search of bodies
to eat when lunch appears a variety
of horizontal crystalized air, the breathing
skims of traced dwindled flower edges
depict the brim on the outside spilling curious
bent thoughtless Rockies hunting for an ending
in the turns and corners of leafy shelving—
where the haunted streams refer their minds to
guess at grazed pines with the sap drip of light
as it fattens fanning wings of memory
heaped upon the wheels of a human-path
and many fields of wind in glass, the window
of a highway shivering plucked cell phone
calls luxuriating milky and soft pink.

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