A Cargo of Green Hearts
some days the earth barely moves
the sun leans its shoulder
into the wall of the sky
and loiters there, the clouds
stretch out their long fleece tails
as if they had nowhere to go
could stay in the same spots
forever rearranging themselves
like Rorschach blots. it is as if
the waters of this earth crept
toward us slowly, surrounded
us to the necks and held us
like kind wrestlers. all the birds
stopped and listened, except
the white-throated sparrow
whose molasses song was too
slow to hush. the raspberries
are all gone but the watermelons
keep waiting. if you kiss me in
I will never stop kissing you.
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