reason vaporizes
like a spring frost,
and we must find accounts
within,

but if we do a deliberate search
for the dense Forget-me-not,
its purple presence
shows us

see ten-thousand suns staring up
from verdant grass-
hazard a gatherer's angry buzz,

--pick one
its scent powders your nose
with stardust
sharp as a lion's tooth

the bouquet of our beginnings
cracks us up with
a child's laughter, prancing
& roaring our senses clear,
for a kid
remains in you