Nightjars erupt from longleaf
crepuscular; free-tailed bat
choreography in a Delft-blue sky,
black shroud alighting on wind.
Like a shade, my hunger
follows me, clings like sandbur.
Sowthistle in the prairie,
button snakeroot, deer tongue.
When I stand in open field,
in bright sunlight, I cast no shadow—
craving comes later.
In the twilit mind, flock outlines
sweep across plumegrass,
hunting by dusklight. My hunger
four o’clock flower,
evening primrose, nightshade.
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