iris – leaf and twig

In This Liminal Time

each morning
with the flowers
sweet dreams linger

Buddha leaves
a wake
of beauty and calm

tiny explosion
a potency
of blue

at the fence end
the birdhouse’s front yard
a round of iris pods

claiming self
notwithstanding
similarity

mother
in granite
nature her child

as morning sidles
to the edge of the garden
the gingko bows to the day

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