the first from the frog pond

steal the last of the sunlight,

leaving charcoaled

fishbones of cloud.

in various shades of opened

or shut, these dandelions

we step on retreat

into the solitude of moonlight.

---

DANIEL J FLOSI sometimes thinks they are an apparition living in a half-acre coffin within the V of the Mississippi and Rock Rivers. They are a poetry reader at Five South. Their work has appeared or is forthcoming in Not Deer Magazine, The Closed Eye Open, The Good Life Review, Zero Readers and Wild Roof Journal. Drop a line on Twitter: @muckermaffic.