most wonderful on all

paths, the lovely distraction:

flower in the grass

where glance lands like

bees, and

walk blooms halt,

yielding scent then

brightness- (fragile vials of

life which you wear

'round your neck, petals

sewn to your dress.)

where the tall

prism of trees, bending

light 'round their standing,

walk leaves pause

in the quiet fern leaf,

where at your feet

i lean-

under the canopy,

the foot-sure axis

sleeps in the sun,

and of digress dreams.