Ayes running through my mind’s eyes like little cottontails scrambling into the brambles.
Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
Robins bobbling around for worms.
The only animals appearing sleepy are tethered. A dog walking a human.
A clot of hair collects about a nail head that is pounded into the railing.
I suppose it is mine.
Strands tugged a’loose like feathers, after the daily ritual of:
arrive home, sit outside, and, let the waves down.
Like little feathers lost only to be reassembled into
a new configuration.
A merkin for the metal.