Raindrops advance
kamikaze-style, surrendering
individual, perfect smallness

Do tears of an onion
look differently under a microscope
than tears of grief?

A cracked shard of glass
reflects the sun as beautifully
as a church window

Pizzicato spider feet
play cobweb harps up
in heaven near the ceiling

The sun’s lips kiss the earth
goodbye so fervently
they bleed

Stars sparkle with glory
but are dead
and don’t know anyone’s story

Who notices that grasshoppers
pray summer sacred, that pebbles
are soft like a child’s wrists?