Too much Too much, too much The grass, the fox, the world How could there ever be too much? Could I ever say, “There are enough owls.” Could I ever say, “There are enough elephants.” Too much and not enough, the world held tight in its own order.

Order The rabbit keeps the grass in check; the fox, the rabbit. The eagle keeps the fox in check; the grass, the eagle.

For once this music could live in me again. For once the crushed throat might sing and it might even be beautiful and it even could be beautiful again.

For once let us not speak of bitterness for the noose doesn’t have to be a noose. It could be a bow. It could eat itself and end as it began. For once the sound of the mourning dove couched beneath the patio overhang could murmur or flutter and wake the crocuses closed to the rain.

Here is the poem: For Once a salmon sky faded from blue like the belly of a tetra hangs above the noose of winter eased on the throat of a blue bird’s song born again.

Thank you!

Thank you! My stylist does a good job

The green one!

White and black jockstrap?

You're too kind! It doesn't feel that way sometimes!