the bums of Nuance –

Shifting toward

the Sun we unwind our Sultry

habits

wrapped in skeins of Glory; We

adhere Now that

everyone is Cut loose in this, our

pitched Unity an

Accusation

replete or ancient in these

times divining a treble flute

sounding

with acute Alarms startling

the jays

at the feeder – We are seized

by a quiet Rapture

here in this dry Earth our

grateful

reckoning uncovered --