It so happens time keeps slendering—new storms clip
life already torn, wind escorts relentless loss—regardless
days tender: blue throats in lupine open, yellow-headed
blackbird hops, the irony taste of a bloody lip.
Onslaught alone won’t stir things, but even the tribe’s
most sage cannot dodge on offer tears of rage—
hit-and-run knocks a boy off a bike; bliss-dumb lovers
next-door tongue their first naked kiss; beneath dahlias
larger-than-last-year’s rats get in; Senators defect;
cold bones ache. Conflict and franchise everywhere …
It so happens vast demesnes animate—a shape, a dream,
the human love of habit. This morning urban squawk nonstop—
women sing, a man at a window weeps for lack of words—
prismed sunlight jumps the wall. Imagination evolves.