Brooklyn Copeland

Rings possess fingers. Fingers remember what the eyes have blocked. The blindness in this case is figurative. The figure in this case is curvaceous. ) Milled, folded, soldered. Inlaid omen. Mokume gane. Ifs as hinges. Ands as pins. Rings as reunions. ) In some remote pre-dawn eye slit the horizon largely the same the cinquefoils still chirpy and obliging the ox-eyed daisies and the daisies fleabane and the worts and weeds the thistles and yarrows still healing and exotic in their ways— Weeds bind. Tongues beard. Thimbles berry. Balms bee. Flags blue. ) Rain clarifies colors— colors reveal the brief ambition of these provincial weeds. In gullies, mosses soft, mosses bright as dyed suede feel rich beneath scrubbed feet. Rain—nature’s iteration— light paradiddles on the surface of the creek. How free-making this word (penniless) before a judge!

Nature remains faithful by natural light, only. Immeasurable, invisible in the wind. Visible when blades and branches bend. The wind speaks fluent rain. Despite it the rain falls straight. And beyond it abandoned barns defend abandoned men.

The smallness of this colloquial cannot muffle the full morning orchestra— amphibious greens clotting the trickle of thaw. The tinny fin flip and eyeflake flash— small schools that give shimmer in the dull skulk of wind. ) (cry one pure perennial I can’t doubt) (something by which to) where we are wearing our belts a little tighter— ) rotted out boat bottom: the boat will stay afloat as long as you pretend to row ) In meadows let alone, gravid stems erupt— hale yellows. ) Gravid stems erupt. The hale yellows pale once they’re plucked.