Friday, May 17, 2019

unchanging


At the top of palms,
below,
an unmoving hand.
       Both sway,
both take time to drop 
their 
       branches

now browning on the ground

the ants remain
and they are everywhere now.
She does not feel them biting.

The rain settles in
the bowls of the branches
Stagnant water
til the sun dries out
my eyes too.