when every cherry blossom,
each pearl an oyster had to make

is counted flawless, pure, a type
of perfection nature remakes

on a daily basis has me
thinking about what else to take

from your question. Sunrises, sun-
sets, the way colors tend to break

across that blue horizon line.
How the New River turns opague

at exactly those times of day.
The songs that crickets seem to shake

out from their tiny tambourines.
The spattering of stars, snowflakes,

the way dew drops or tear drops slide
along the cheeks or glass. Heartache

can feel that way, too, once smitten
it shakes you like a rattlesnake.