It used to taste like deference. It was what difference is. Way back when I had smiles good enough to change a life I must have wasted them on life itself. Imagine June as not so much the center of the year as what it really is. Tadpole to frog weather.
Croaks come out of crocus in a single voice.
Its not alliteration but nature being literate. Freeway daisies riot on the freeways. Crabgrass given inches, steals the farm. Hobo birds, like finch and sparrow, seed the underbrush with baby tear. Those swallows, who did not come back, come back now as prodigals or better.