The delicate lace hiss of low tide drawn over small sand, wind push and moon pull cancelled, baked flat in the noon-time bay.
Anaconda Acela engine glides snout-first across dark rails – glowing belly full of business morsels with crisp lapels, anxious to be devoured and spit out.
A skein of tropical minnows unravels under the dock, a Rapunzel of fish fiber billowing in the sea swell.
Islands hump down the Drake Channel, parallel sea dragon shadows in the gelatin silver print mist.
Linden leaves, Fall’s gutter gelt, pile around tires and trash bags.
Parmesan flakes drift over red sauce and disappear, a first snowfall still too delicate to stick.
Green eel reeled tight on the hook, reversely baptized, writhes in an ecstasy of tongues, a new convert not ready to die for his faith on the promised land.
Brick-length oblate feather phenotype etched with a smudge stick, stock still shocked will to flight blunted in blood.
Cannon clouds erupt across the milkweed field, low seed-pod smoke trails catch in dry stalks – grass-fallen soldiers sacrificed on summer’s front lines.
Butterfly transcends the highway vortex, wings clap toward the sun, changing lanes to glide south.