WORLDS


borne backs of armored
bucking that populates
a forest near an ovaling
my talk & look & antler guard
i cannot keep alive in gifted voice
i say the grass is taller than i was
the moss clings to a bark of mine
chewed through layered cover
a charging sharp & something
i mean the garden is fenced in
but the gate is open for
critters go & go as they they
first to nip away
sweet melon & bell pepper
i am lost as an eater
i grow larger as i wither