Mourneful, vascular spines bow,
Heavy with rain drop
Grass revived – green again,
patches, yellow riot under ducts.
Gloomed – as though humidity
Dropped like lights dimmed
In a lounge, you sauntered
A drink my way and vaporized
Lost in locked heads – a bar side.
Breeze – gusts shaded in pencil
Ravage way-sides, to stalk
Life across fields – roads –
scrapers – The lawn –
Slick folds open devour whole.
Developed, butterflies
Taunt my petals, dependent
On my slender stem. I am content
In the new pad, patched with new blooms
You arrive; your boot – with all
Destruction, extinguishes me.
Bridget Hart 
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