A first morning,
rolls of roses
drop down
over me
A first bird,
deepest down
a downward drop
into a peak
away from me
A first song,
for oxygen
falls below
shape of wind, my mind
shape of may
into the deepest pocket
comes together
A first hour,
still falling into
the reaching hands
when the blow reaches;
the rolls of roses drop down
in the deepest pocket down
on the back of falling love
it all comes together.
