Rhyme he thought reading Mary with a sense of gratitude, trepidation and a rankle of powerlessness.
Terrifically a first-season squirrel boxed its reflection, marching off to dig beneath the pine.
Out of periphery an apparent squirrel feud/flight/faster than grey-line; leapt over chipmunk, that red berry, tearing through dead tiger lilium up another tree with rapid spiral, a faux battle.
Eye scratching, reverse spiral unraveling, a flown-jump to red shed roof.
Lone lofted gull, triangulated half moon twixt old leaves, cut-blood red apples, calm blue sky.
Unidentified twerping bird(s), late to the gone summer.
Air now hazed breath...the sun paled, working, in charge of the day.
Not far curious crows act tough with unknown language.
Strong as ravens.
Off airborne to dead outliers, white branches piercing the vista of many thousands, of trees.
Poplar leaves glint like glass.
Serendipitous linden leaf atwirl, seed precarious.
Spun to green grass, brown thatch.
A praying mantis on glass door.
Wordy wordy look whose forty!
I have not seen such a creature in all my days, he lied.
And its sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooSLOW.
No song, nor dance.