This is called, "A Flora Beginning With Vineyards."
Over the rolled vineyards, lilacs pinch light.
Would hold the morning's swell, that image,
those images strung like wire and running singed into hair,
heat, the white rooms the skull keeps.
Keep, keep us.
We're letting ourselves out.
Are emptying Earth.
That heavy with members, with the twined weight the breath
tools, we'd lay the thin winds.
Pull over our shoulders those painted caves.
Herd holly, larkspur, the dew that, bulbous,
shatters the black grain.