eggshells & poppies

Enjoying these dreamy blue nights, when the blue glows and embraces the trees, the raindrops falling like pennies into the soft garden soil.

This morning I found pieces of bird's eggshell on my car.

When I walk, I'm watching the crow fly to her hidden nest, and, two blocks and a left turn away, the crimson oriental poppies still shrouded in their hoary jackets. Any day now a slit will break in the enfolding sepals and the glowing red will show through, crumpled and secret, shy before its crinkly debut.