northern california mid-morning
a bee drowses skims a friend's
too-soon too-late scotch.
up early he stalks life,
hung with nets,
overpocketed.

wander to the side garden
where showy pink geraniums dazzle.
a friend's bra splays on patio
stone, offers sly smile.

later on i'll drizzle honey
over yogurt, a message
to you, a mess, a spooning.

absences flower between us.

and yet we are both here
half-wild, ungreedy, wishing
ghostly spores at would-be
transpire.

broom in hand, i disperse the dust,
the first bending of
clay in sculptural advances
toward something i don't
even try to guess at anymore.