i watch from under
my umbrella
the complexly bladed ferns
dancing erratically in the rain
my feet and their forever
war on stasis
the ruts reasserting themselves
through fresh stone
i was only going
for a walk and now
i’m pondering the obligations of ferns
the prerogatives of feet
and the way a green tongue
snakes through everything
as if wisdom grew on trees
as if it were made of gray paper
a head-sized tumor
emitting hornets
or the way rain beads
on a jewelweed leaf
unable to find purchase
on such a smooth skin
it rolls and gathers
into the veins
microcosms
in capsule form
my pace slows
to a creep
