From my zero-gravity chair

From my zero-gravity chair, I see--well, what?--

a garden! where any American friend and a scaly tree,

spaced between winds and chimes, would love to be

& a rabbit known by scent and stride, & one good

twitchy eye safe for now inside its poor furry head--

and free as well from a raptor's talons as is tree Jay ,

(with the tractatus heart!) who flies idly and slyly by

Aptly a lilac the colour of pierced skies may be a crown

the Jay and soul wear in a garden! from where I sit

A wasp, from a lost parsley mound, hovers near a limp

rose's puff stem bent cruelly towards the ground

A sigh from a neighboring pug is the only sigh around

Addendum:

They'd gotten into the habit (birds!) of spiking the wind--

predisposed in their favor any way--& pounding the earth

on which fall all the mute, muddy, most personable seeds

to ever lie 'tween watered rows and some nearby weeds.

(2022)