Fair dealing weatherable samizdat

horses in loving earth metals
elements of practical conspiring
characters of wafers and wine
vanilla lemon tulip Cardinalidae
peaking beneath the parched
doe bouchon strings climbing
where fallow of friends sting
more than love can bind sold

Sufjan Stevens hums, “There’s
only a shadow of me; in a matter
of speaking, I’m dead,” to mirrors
where myths sing landscapes unto
friendly calls and returns that
donate to one’s survival in the part
of these partitioned earth weights
and in these songs I have seen time