Her necklace is made of beads of blue glass

Her necklace is made of beads of blue glass
and the grass is green. The moisture that floods
over the land from the gulf falls on the peas

and the tomatoes. I have the changing mood
of moons, my phase is shifting and it has
a dynamism. See how the beads must depend

upon her neck? See how they move with her laugh
and change their color? I move my toes in mud
after the storm, I am examining the tough

branches that have fallen. She is the food
that satiates me, now I am seeing through
the veils of clouds and clothes. The objects tend

toward effulgent light, I am the river
bursting at its seams threatening to flood.