summer leaves have two faces:
toward the sun they swelter grim
as anyone can; in the wind-pushed rain
they jump & run &
their dull pallor brightens
the sudden light and the sudden dark.
also the black streets are silvered,
the thick yellow sun-cages dissolved
into gray distances.
my love and my joy,
which are also in the deep surfaces of things,
words are not thin
when what is written is written
on both sides.