Wekiwa Springs, 2010

Born to churn opaquely, the circular headwater spring's

constant warmth respires in rocky black and sandy aqua

where a fuming rises under igneous prisms of mossy cling

and a darting mirth of minnows quicksilvers the grotto spa

near a drained lantern's orange glow in fast fading light.

Scant promise from a sandy trail though beige meadows

where the orange blaze on gnarled pine fades to white

and leads a squint astray under the coniferous boughs.

An arc of bending darkness mistaken in creeping fog

skulks crackled under the foot near grey palms in line-

heard by a black paw a scratch on the fallen bark log

under the swirl of Ursa Minor and a sky dimmed pine

which float overhead in a glass from reflective remove

and, in tracking the stars, you can sense the earth move.