you see this devious thing?
waits in shallow waters, watches for
darkly unfolding flowers, sees its
chance—hones its dance—
skip and tumble, slip and mumble
give it voice and give it vision
damn conviction with this mission
wants what it wants
gets what it needs
let it feed
back into hiding . . . biding time
no worry in the lingering
no hurry
patience. patience.
not sustainable, not irreplaceable, but perhaps
inescapable
a blooming nascence in
nighttime places
see its grin?
widening, tightening 'til in the ripening
exquisite efflorescence, no need for
pretense
delicious—the blossom that
spreads apart for things in the dark