harder green

hours a small shed & dogs meaning

light would break if it was brick or stucco

or the harder green of leverage

this a woman whose cracks are visible

& her voice a silo—she lives in the shallows

the river sleeping at her door

afternoon a shadow bent at the tree’s beckon

shade melted, heat ajar—this is the bowl

this is in situ—it is vocation

there is a small bird at the sky’s wrist

the stain of it—the dark of it

spreads