Refined to the point of ambiguity
A flower poised
In a glass
Of water you had brought
Light like
A tiny siphon
Leaks out of perception
Noticing then the complexion
Of the flower dew
Wet with what you left
Leaning out
Against the window
Through which oaks loom
Over the river
Grey-green with somber hues
Pale pigments
And an egret there perched upon
A fallen tree