Monday, September 1, 2025

Fern spikes sprout cranial
and wild, bright ideas
speckled with creamsicle
clouds and papery smoke
puffs. Blades droop,
a cluster of upturned mops
with winding and forked handles. Tiny
smiling umbrellas huddle
and hang like the stringy
threads of moss that recline
restful on the sofa. A pane
of forest reaches over
a bough-crowded frame,
striped with vines that spit
broad palms, open and hungry
for sun. Gold cuts
through ceaseless green.

---

love notes
a ritual to start the week