“Best wishes,”
you conclude,
and here they are—
a line-up of characters:
the loose-lipped blue hibiscus,
the flashy columbine
like a shooting star
in reverse,
the composite, scarlet verbena
made to stand
against a wall.

*

“That’s nice,”
but it’s the liminal,
the area between
sleep and waking up,
the border
we think we remember
between existing
and not
that we still want.

From Jubilat 18.