An incomplete gestation
Spared me only an eye
That saw everything
As purple and indigo.
I woke up to the silence
Of frogs and dead crickets
In the sun's mid-morning,
but to my eye, it was dawn.
Mid-afternoon came to rest
When I sat by the window
Waiting for the sparrows
To break their wings and die.
I knew it was past eve
On the patio, in my chair,
Rocking slow and squeaking,
When I counted the fireflies.