the chimes ignored the wind,
just for a moment the trees bowed;
Kore, low in the fresh cut grass
trying to catch a whiff of the lilies
in the mist of mold and skinned knees.
the waters cooperation maintains the space between vertical and horizontal.
reserving the gasp for where our bodies conjoin.
a country crossroads covered in wildflowers.
name every one.
a patch of goldenrod and chicory
drop the last lock
covered in thistledown
the key is safe.