June Bloom

For June Bloom is a time of Fruition

and when the distance draws back and reflects

it happens upon something like dense flecks

the leaves in position of remonstrance

alive were the moments of lifes questions

they neither were answered nor forsaken

but cling as as certain as always throng

they gather they cluster they diminish

before there were preceded with finish

their inertia so innocent they blend

the wild poppies with their faces flushed

there is no where there as where as when

but beginnings are mysterious ends

without equivocation precedent