my eyes crinkle    -    haze blurs 

the veiny cutout of leaves on sky -

the sun, weighted with shadow, casts 

orange spells of shade at strange angles 

 

    -    my throat tosses complaints back 

to my nose so I blow snot dotted with ash

into a stolen napkin and turn towards 

 

                                         someone -

a robin atop an outside table,

the repurposed tins banging on posts

    -    only these songs undimmed