I stand in our field with cardinal flowers
holding fast to my skirt.

My mind’s in the clouds scudding across
the morpho-bright sky.

Grass rests soft, blurred into a Van Gogh
canvas by August’s heat.

Woods around the edges see through me—
firefly hair frizzing

in humidity, sunflower brain always hoping,
palm fingers grasping

at sunlight, mossy hips trudging slowly,
slowly under twilight’s

Kali-blue gaze, & rainy heart, moving toward
October’s cool curtain.