DRIED MANGOES
Vibe Organic Is this what pattern is? At the bedside stand olivehued leaves with big personalities list inward
at your unrestricted ear, a yielding lightless access which just yesterday a puckish gray moth madly swooped at your naked shoulder to get to also, though its impromptu cluttering method made your palm slam. A brazen attempt to tunnel a home out of you.
In the hushed bed your best friend sleeps. If you nudge him from sound slumber, he will stir, (then, rumble): I had to move the hair out of someone’s eyes But it wasn’t Robert this time Or pretty Cassie—all her spangly curls
Curious his words, like the puzzling silver dots spattered on these leaf surfaces, as if a painter had shaken her brush at the plant in a wild covenant for talent.
© liveencounters.net POETRY & WRITING Volume One December 2020 Celebrating 11th Anniversary
