is elusive,
how the lilies cling to staunch stems,
how the roses, brown-edged
from the drought but uncomplaining,
let their heads droop gently down,
their hips holding them firm
until their last moisture
surrenders to the sun's avarice,

how the robin chews the worm,
the rabbit simply listens
to the wind, how the wind itself
subsides before the tempest
comes wheeling from the north,

how the oak tree sits like a castle
hundreds of years old, how the ship
barely moves on the horizon, how
the horizon swallows it without
motion, how the stars mark their paths
with invisible ink, how ink dries up
in the pen after the last poem.