The angular bloom of your head on the long stem of your neck
The red dog on your shoulder
The two sibling houses afloat in the absolute sky
Your eloquent fingers
Your one roving one unroving eye
The prim pride of your small motley collar
No shadows
No seasons
alongside your big reserve
but something you would have us know
The commanding sky is dauntless around you
A nation lives in your smooth forehead
Your cranberry lips bunched up over your story
Your big little girl’s gaze saying
summer will have its turn
Far away in the background
a small whitish bird
twitters inaudibly everything
you choose not to tell us