a discarded half size bottle of liquor lies
transparent
supported by hedge struts
and touched by the sun
for now
but it will not get up
again
will disappear soon
into the season
and taken over
by tended leaves
the bush
now transparent
is growing a skin
an aggregation carved
into a border
and so out of sight
it will then neither
a drop
to have
nor to contain
and this is it
i think
their never again
so i wonder
as i wander
happy today -
like a human under blossoms
should be
other things said
gravity
sickness' first call
sweet in my throat
not just any bad sleep