White Biocentrism

Snake-hide sun threads through moody clouds and green oaks
and bark-skinned branches too thick to coax,
snail-treading grass-hemmed stones like uneven floor
planking a chalky path to a wind-pawed cabin door.

Childlike and shy light beams inspect a pane-glass eye,
retreat for a reflective moment, spider back for another try.
At flaky edges of a rain-pecked roof nests a royal-blue bird;
a naked full Moon suggests an audience, soon to be heard.

Dusk-feathered wings gently spread, fan a blinking net--
random leaf and land blindly beckon life still soaring,
chancing in checkered night kin out exploring--
seed and stem unearthed by them dawn again, raw and violet.