green cauldara

writhes
supplication
bleached in
the hot tin
of sun
suspended

the wings of
flyers
like worn feathers
feel flight
bleeding the
stains of time
the staple
the tack
while birds
rest on chimney
stack

foyers of shade
and the shuffle
of traffic
relieve the
course of a day
in static

a hot brooding
sun coaxes
shadows to walk
dapple light
the mirage
bright
a gleam for
every eye
when rains
shall pass
leaving humid
Karma
on clear brows
the tousled
crowns

..