Double

I signal compound, my leaves fingered,

splayed to the brown of Autumn’s droop

fumbling down to crowns

two inches under.

I am green till blooming, crimson cup

busted by feathering reds, gold heart

shambled as bees shuffle

beneath the rags.

I am perfume, faint on a drag of summer

down to the time of rains and greys

rilling along the gutter,

glitter slopped,

none of your blowsy drugging here.

I am core-fat by winter, rootlets twitching

for nitrates locked below

their usual stock.

I am green and splayed, locked and shambled,

core-fat and cup-busted, red and fumbled

where I am guttered and fingered,

where I twitch.