ant5

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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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hiding all at once

a lot of worms

in the ground

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alloyed with

moonlight the clouds

soundless

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does it count

if I just graze

your buttons

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the sun folds

the lip of

the storm clouds

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in the middle

of the bed

we meet again

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burnt ash

drifts down

the well

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