it passed through the trees like a laser
then dove into the earth
as if diving into a dark pool
leaving a shadow on the ground
at the feet of the trees
come spring the crocus will bloom
and release its scent
and the heavens
will breathe in
eat the honey sweet scent
and cry tears that nourish
the beds of earth
pungent and potent
impatient to color the world
as a young child does
always at some point outside the lines
