& nothing at first / you think no / the tea
too sweet / the click of teeth in any aching
the azaleas’ archery in bloom / what
means do to lolling men / stay just so / as
if the air ain’t mete / with expectation
humming heavy we / say night might hang
silk / as psocid strandings / on wood limbs
as cotton is dogged / a carrying shut
door / whose future historifies in bone
china / gold-petaled moonlit magnolia
blooms linger / gloss slick gossamer webs
over every leaf / eyes shutter / steeped in
what tendrilled luxuries / their vinedarks seek
& nothing too sweet is / anymore
Brett Shaw writes and teaches in Alabama. Recent work appears or is forthcoming in Denver Quarterly, The London Magazine, The Journal, and elsewhere. His work has received support from the Community of Writers.