Gnat fuzz hums on pregnant buds
While fruits, fleshy and swollen,
Arch and bend on fattened stems
And dewy blebs roll and fall
To heaving soils, where grubs
Congregate endlessly.
The season is thickening:
Its scent concentrates, like ether,
In creeping clouds, blending
The giddy whirr of mosquitoes
Into amnesia and penitence
And a clutching of roots.
This is my earth life: to follow
The worm's meandering,
Through saw-jaws, the spider's scrawl,
On paths traced, untraced and retraced,
By Brownian ants, millipedes
And others, less imagined.