i really love the little things that go unnoticed

Philip Jason

The first thing I want you to know is that I love

the circle you drew in the sand

with your finger. It has one

too many corners, but it is a thing of you

and in its happenstance, I can feel you dreaming.

The second thing I want you to know is that

I love you for how you plant your feet

in the earth; beneath you, gravity stitches

the mild underheavens of this world

to the calloused pads of your lower paws.

Which brings me to the third thing:

there are places no one has touched,

small places on the surface of the Earth

kept secret by probability magics, and large

places holed up deep in the exoskeleton

of the planet. Each time you plant yourself

into the ground, these places yearn. They spread

rumors to each other about the circle you left

in the skin of a crumbled mountain.

I can hear them whispering through

the telephonic clovers, each of which sprouts

a sudden extra leaf to amplify the transmission.

Even the sun feels the increased pull of chlorophyll

on its roiling spirits. It is a ball of flaming gravity,

hungry for fame, and yet, it is humbled

by the heart-shaped pearl

its soaring offspring has wrought

at the center of your wandering shell.