FLUFF of dandelions, floating over meadows, in my dream.
REARM yourself, creation, at springtide rise!
WEEDY shore bank in my mind, green and flowered,
BROOK whispering by under a sun that warms. When?

SONIC spark: the radio starts the song, filling the
SHACK–that plus radio are her capital. She often dreams of
CABIN life, several rooms, maybe a TV. But this is her song!
BROOM caught up, she dances across the packed dirt floor.

VOILA, brave new world at my command in one device.
SILLY pursuits easier now, along with serious, perhaps.
AWAKE at night, chasing rabbit trails on a glowing screen.
PHONE, oh such potential! But soul, you struggle to deliver.

EPOXY, superlative substance of stick,
TORUS, shape that sounds so svelte,
THOSE are premium for purposed prose,
CANNY in their usual use. Yet, weird in poem’s lines.

VIGIL at the sickbed, weary drifting up the prayers.
SERUM, final, fragile hope, a life to coax and death arrest.
VAPID flit some thoughts unwelcome, lift up gaze for help:
CRANE, through glass, above the bay, lonely crosses sky.