Ruthless, the sun shone:

ironing, scorching root and stem.

Its muscles flared, a gender-blind juggernaut.

Suburban, possessed, the lilacs whisper.

In the shadowless nought—

on the soulless gravel—

I could see

the rocket hulk of the red Camaro.

My deep knowing—

sweet peas quiver, such poisonous moths—

that you were gone.

Thumb whorl on my text book—

analysis of time’s knoll—

a reminder that you were gone.

Nothing depends on you.

Then, from a green-headed cloud,

soapy drops spatter.

Villain dandelions, too many,

hiss and pant as they bow,

or is it I who bows?

The magnetic core pulls

me through the wettening, flattening grass,

down through soil, aquifer, rockhead, bedrock,

to roiling sorrow,

tolling.