justwrite 16 august

despite the spark that shrank the dark there was a starling stirring in the trees refolding its knees into a better state for dreaming when the careening color of orange appeared near enough to smell but not yet close enough to taste and in the face of such a happening of wings was a sufficient way to say that the day may as well start right now right then and again the whistles blew from the nearby watchers catching those angular rays in and out of branches dancing in nearly soundless movement a zoom-in on the backdrop focusing on the hocus pocus spin given to ordinary things like the fingers or feathers right in front of you and the thing to do was and always is to stretch longly and wonder what is this all about and if no shouts come through with answers then the doubts are enough chance for rolling back over or under but if the colors warm and new shades appear in a clearing sort of sense then the dimension that unfolds might be worth stepping out into like a juicy bite of orchard fruit dripping right down your sticky face and you know then the time is now