Used to breath
Like open door springtime
On canopy days
When the sun gathered
On rooftops of parasol
Dawns.
Used to drop like tomatoes
On dead summer days
When all the life
We had left to find
Was in the fruit.
Used to rush like Autumn
On train track dusks
When footprints
Made puddles
In fragments of leaves
And little hands
Rushed to gather
What’s left of the
Trees.
Used to fill
Like snowdrops
On blue-window
Nights
When pieces of ocean
Or sky
Lit eyelashes
And sank
Between Neckline
And skin.