Though they be dented,
deserving adoration,
are flowers; humans.
Everyone’s holey
Warms the soul
Full bodied, complex,
as rich, well rounded Syrah—
in your face, the sun.
One strange rock
For a shutterbug,
as Halloween treats for kids,
surreal, nature.
Bring out, in
Windows, an effort;
a yearning for the outdoors,
from the great indoors.
No one is immune
Looking sickly pale,
slender bones, brittling in cold;
the flu gets trees, too.
The Chaos Within 