CERTAIN

Certain places, certain
as the ridge’s blinding light
at dawn, embrace us—

draw the pain away,
the poison that the brain
has let fester behind our eyes.

They need not speak, yet
the breeze rhymes
in the limbs of trees,

where the business of birds
changes with the seasons, yet
will not change the ways

of the world. Certain places
find their peace in the mundane
details, the stamen’s sure

perfume pollinators share
upon the petals’ opening
their doors to seed. Certain.