by H.L. Hix
By the counterweights on construction cranes.
By the butterfly’s bars, yellow and black.
By the canopy’s thick arcing motions
in wind, forth and back.
By grit in your eyes and grit in your mouth
and grit in the sheets and grit underfoot.
By morsels of gristle tight between teeth.
By heat imitating weight.
By the emanating, then, not by the scent,
or not the scent per se.
By its staking them, all of them, sufficient
unto any day.
By lavender as proof against intent,
by force of bouquet.