LatinosUSA

under a rowan tree,
wet wings over me-
open metaphorically,
to drippled drenches
that soak through senses
combing ecstasy.

the long grass sways with rhythmic dancing
oblivious to times passing,
and murmurs flake from summer wind
on bough awake with happening-

afterwards,
in whispered chords-
the pollinated pieces of confession
pout love without repression,
watching pagan sun
through rowan blossom.