They foregather in murmuration
not of their own doing
in a perception of movement
of a species they are not

Petals to spring introduced
foregone themselves further flowering
on asphalt surfaces became their hard garden

and gutters for sidewalks
lay down their last will as translated by mechanical winds of cars and cyclists alike

little whites reforming
corolla crowning blankets
around productive organization

of morning peoples of whom
earlier one whirl-pooled
last night’s meal

at the roots of mama tree.

—animasuri’22

With a minute wink, as a white petal,
to Wallace Stevens
as introduced by Dr. WSA