It is summer, and soon the Perseid showers
I have gone from my desert home
I wander far from crowded towns
my feet here in grassy, bee clover
on a summery hill, all daisy flowered
green, with wild blackberries
awaiting the August sun fire.
Here amid the slowing of mars retrograde
of my lover returning home too late
no long goodbye, only the weight
I watch oceans of seaweed sway
at night the phosphorescence
the lonesome, of sea stars trailing.