ant5

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you can’t put

salt in the unicorn

salt shaker

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full moon

not all black

pearls are black

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it’s a telephone

too

the universe

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dust settles

only the forks

are left

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full moon

flecks of quartz

in the gravel

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from the side

I see it

your silver hair

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sounds like the frogs

are floating across

the field

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sweet briar

scratches you

but doesn’t breach

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stuck on a rose thorn

dark acorn

holding its cap

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we brush

the edges of

chimney smoke

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