Magnolia
Daniel Pravda
leaves don't prissy whisper
or twitter. they cluck. they rev
like an old engine in spring.
ever rake them things? like
sweeping hot cookies. like
bad kids at a museum. like
grease burnt to a pan.
the fine china of forest canopy.
add her buttery flowers
and aroma hypnosis,
and you got yourself
one dangerous swamplady.