Apeiron

Recall that in the desert

pockets are there where the wind

won’t go. It feels its way

across places it must have felt

yesterday

but then the lull then

the end of breath.

I stood in a part

of the desert like that.

My hat was in my hand.

I had a skirt on

a moment ago flying

above my head.

Then like a bird settling

on a good patch of land

my skirt fell exhausted down.

A moment later, though

I wasn’t expecting much

of anything to ensue,

there came a sound like too many roses thrusting

out of the ground.

I looked down I saw

too many roses thrusting

out of the ground.

My mouth no longer

parched, it fed

on the red it saw

being born from the windless

earth.