Unfolded letters

in the gutter and the crevice
where the grass is dark of sun
by the bull-pigeons that are just as fruity-ripe
out and further out to warm city tarmac
between themselves and an attentive wind
on puddle shores
inside the busy nests (i imagine)
behind the green-cool statue
at the tree roots
above one breeze then another
down this way


from earlier sunrise
to later sunset
while the sun exposes the riverbed

until it rains a late spring shower