a waxing moon rises
within countless shades of green
louisiana spring
one hot afternoon

a kite perched high
beak full of twigs
has building on his mind
nothing more

three kites soar
two white and one gray
nothing better
than flight without thought

love bugs hover
above my feet
I smell tractor fuel
and honeysuckle

the sun's light sparks
off leaves and grass
the pump house wall
the barn's dirt floor

the moon is quiet
hiding in the light
to be a brilliance uncontained
in the dark of night