Clusters of leaves quiver like old lady fingers,
the sun sends down pinpricks of warmth
like lit matches,
and the wind brushes them away

with the first semblance of autumn.      

A nameless insect crosses the rubber toe
of her shoe, and another crawls over the freckle
above her knee. A cocoon of entwined thorn bushes
surrounds her as she crouches, eyes wet.

An ant, antennae waving, balances precariously
on a glistening blonde arm hair,
and is swept away by a thoughtless
breath. Knotholes in the fence
stare across the yard, observing,
with wooden silence,
the lengthening of shadows and the shudders
of a young girl.

A fleck of green, a flicker of light
through two fence posts.
Seaweed strands of moss,
light and feathery.
The irregular beating
of the outside's cicada heart.
The rustling of ocean waves calling
down from the treetops reassures her
and the aching cries of a dog
colliding with the screeching howls of a crow
reminds her.