Bindweed at the edge
of the warm, bursting garden,
wet with all-day rain.

It’s nearly midyear
and the zinnias keep coming,
I can’t know their depth.

The feel of August—
morning glories on the rail,
the color of sky.

Glowing nasturtium,
leaf, bug-bitten in a heart,
a deep, silken life.

The trillium stands
in the soft April forest,
its yellow heart glows.

Feeding on the light
of the bright orange cosmos—
the bee, in mid-air.

The end of the week,
zinnias and blazing stars bloom
with or without us.