Pick up that descended leaf mottled
in golden pixels, the traces
left by forked veins. Would the caterpillar see
before his meal
the ragged edges of living green?
Those sugars later turned to dye entice
legs and legs to crawl,
for the perfect bite awaits him while
perfect cast delights me.
What fauna feasts on coiled fern
the way my eyes do? Nestled
in wet shade and spread to sun rays poked
between branch over branch above
the mosaic mirrored in the colored
leaves and holes eaten through, pierced
by sky.
Absent design, shapely accidents
layer themselves in scale; pebbles
aligned with sand to mark
an immeasurable end to land, an infinite
line with definite form
plying the space between water and air, blurring
distinction of branch and vein.
(updated 8/24/08)
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