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.