ant5

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a day people

are silhouettes

behind glass

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salt has come

to rest against

the pencil

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the chicken yard

jay stays on

your periphery

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she asks me

why I’d lick

a stamp

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on the torn strips

of paper

a forest canopy

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the key that slid

in so easily

now stuck

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the blue light

of frogs as

dusk fades out

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a new bug

waits for you

on the shower curtain

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evening train

a few rice grains

tumble from the shelf

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the cats keep

to the muggy parts

of the house

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