Here would be the eye---

                                                must be plighted


                                                like mine (almost)

                                                by its twining

                                                consorting with the sun

                                                agrees there is light


                                                as though

                                                recorders at the radicle tip

                                                (certainly true matter)

                                                rotate toward the sun

                                                so why not call an eye

                                                an eye



                                                It gives the same message

                                                down to the motor-brain

                                                the center mewling                          

                                                Send Us The Sun

                                                (the nerve of it!)

                                                but slowly

                                                ( I don't say it watches)                              






                                                She's a killer diller

                                                Thank our hubris

                                                we have stripped her

                                                clean of kittens


                                                (would have been 

                                                drowned humanely

                                                anyway is supposed)


                                                She stalks as if

                                                a household needs her

                                                back soon or

                                                those phantoms


                                                glide into one

                                                more death

                                                to free matter

                                                into its mere ending


                                                soon as we see

                                                summer's about 

                                                our vinca's lying





                                                Is Color Scheme?


                                                What's it for

                                                as it should be

                                                I guess

                                                what it is?


                                                Favors clean shades

                                                of gray monkfish

                                                in a coulŽe 

                                                of smart eyes


                                                we wear (as a species)

                                                as the deer scopes

                                                hence stands so

                                                no one will see her


                                                still among the 

                                                crashed willows

                                                her glazed hazel pupils

                                                see me as motion


                                                But mine are blue

                                                fauve of a different color

                                                for whose reason?

                                                Not a flicker from her







                                                The sadness builds uff! through the glass

                                                I see no bobcat parading for appetite

                                                back of the laurel and then the screech

                                                Shady Lady


                                                I assume gradients of sorrow

                                                fauve first and harshest native

                                                need to get to it and

                                                down the matter


                                                that wishes "O Go away

                                                camouflaged deity! Go bug

                                                the bay leaf falling

                                                that enrages


                                                No one sees you cradle air

                                                back and forth and lower

                                                each foot lower so

                                                "Pounce on it!"

                                                that says it's fair


                                                's done as motes




                                    Seconds' Romp


                                                These are the images to can't-get-to'm

                                                They are through's windows

                                                you see opposite back

                                                and back's back of it

                                                whose wily off-essence

                                                shimmers and bows to green's-the-host to obscurance


                                                Too many winking layers go through panes

                                                strike another off its standing as

                                                becomes incessant

                                                some shifting correctly to others

                                                standing unwilling

                                                won't flow sideways


                                                Yep! They are obvious They

                                                are "reflets dans l'eau"

                                                sets the course to invent

                                                a great re-sight

                                                has been heard clapping

                                                "O O!"


                                                There is something?---

                                                sweeps the loop up



© Roger Williams