A man can make a hungry angel blush br red wine wets their silent wind-blown lips br sweet summer pine, dark-green and rich, br to the earth, sets down its paint-brushed tips br Late afternoon, heavy sun turns the world br into a quiet, hollow, blood-orange pearl br flooded with a lush and lovely, deathly rust br The air is charged and alive; serene and crisp br br I sit and watch a brilliant, dancing squirrel br br -9-24-13; 2: 55 a.m.