i think you would have

            liked this grass-skirted stretch;

i think you would have

​

after a waiter shatters a plate or

following the moon’s arrival.

i think you would have

asian lady beetles resting

on the nape of a fence;

gilled mushrooms

are sprouting into fairy rings.

these would have been

like

teeth scraping the ground, like

hand-picking tender cherries 20 miles inland; these

that cloud looks like the

toothpaste stain on your boxers

the grass was freshly mowed by

the elementary school, could you

smell that?

did you know my hair

i wonder if

you would have stayed long enough

to see

​

stayed long enough to

the goldfinch perching,

amorphous shadows in the

negative space of tree boughs.

wet heel bites from early rain,

the empty pappus of a dandelion

             puff, void of seeds.

think you would have enjoyed this,

would have warmed my hands,

and when

you’d recognize her face before mine.