The sun bit me today. I bit back– hard.
A song playing on an oboe reed somewhere in the air above.
Smiles along the boulevard too guarded
for all our ferruled madness.
The green swaying in the mind
walking through downtown traffic,
A printed fabric view of the south
and the south rising again.
Sherman marching through Georgia
scattering the chickens
and the green lining of your collared shirt
framing your buteo throated parts.