If there is nothing half-assed about the redbud tree, she can beside it
compositionally, in the form of spring tableau. See her female
receding to a slight power. Coefficient before a vivid variable,
amplifying, as will the May wind, a purple of the bark-
bearing flowers.
Was it happening to be there, or coming to act
in keeping with one's nature? Who has thought that a soul
is a list of things to be done? Far into the color
of a scene's exaggeration, the lagoon is reading
dreadful words to itself. Looking glass for an apple
in flower,
for that cost of the sky on its surface.
-Sarah Gridley
