February & August
August brought its usual stalks, then dust, then gold.
It brought its own dry voice that said, I have things
I want to say to you but I should tell you I love you first.
In my color wheel, always slow to turn, the field had stayed
February, stubbled with ice, summer below like the rooms of Augustus,
the piss and blood wall paints expertly preserved.
To prevent overwatering, place two ice cubes in your orchid
once a week. She put them in the blossoms and they kept falling out.
The importance of clarity cannot be overstated.
Or is it charity we cherish most? This time it would be
cello-deep, train at the ear and core-heat clear. This time
would be geology not archaeology, summer as cis season.
Emperor Mammatus offering the only coffered ceiling.
Then fox, then sunset, then other rampant strata from the dig.