Moon wobble.

 One or two trees with roots behind the horizon 

Slouching away—gatekeepers to another life, as the

Dead tried to leave, left.

The sun came—unrest went quiet, and

Orange light held court on the grassy shadows.

The first was the Elder, but the

Closest had one foot on the sunny hill

I saw.

Reverse sign language.

 Human pearls look like toes,

As they sink into the edge of the curly waves.

We know reverse sign langauge,

We spend a lot of time working on our backs

Torsos and tesserae,

Come by and look where my works begins.

Look: it’s disappearing: a reason

Or reason for pearls.