Before I open my eyes :
A Cottonmouth in the river’s rise
a child is singing for the forbidden thing
it does not know what wreckage brings.
Mimosa sitting with the sleepy dusk
an eloquent pink humid musk
Summer shows a blushing breast
before it forms the void of eternal rest
Frogs here laugh at the dying sun
As if it isn’t the only one
I am alone on my worthy rock
In the summers root, a hollow stone.