Wind rakes through the blades of grass,
Miniscule avalanche clouds the hourglass
Didn't mark the bank with a stone
Failed to glance back and lost the way home
Under ladylike shelter of parasol trees
Verity floats down and stings like a bee
Falsehoods that snagged as they fell past my lips
Slick like a stone held in too tight a grip
Foxglove stalk dragged across my tongue
Bite down gently, whether whispered or sung
Oh, that the gods would promise relief
from the heat that singes tender leaf
Turn back straining to catch the notes
rushing water a lullaby fast becoming rote
How quickly the heat renderings can blur the way
and conjure the night by consuming the day
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