Take
it easy’s what she used to say or any way
You
can get it and her manner took whatever
It
could get—a song beyond my ability to sing
I
who can still muster only a scrawny cry O she
Took a good and friendly air even if a bit giggly
A bit crazily
craftily hi ho hee hee hee I swear
The
spring trees leaned down to listen when she
Stole
a single flute note from the woods a small
Thing
to palm and place in a perfume bottle
A
brief tone she said contained the fragrant day
A
patch of moss-weed lit by a shaft of sunlight
The
maple leaves breathing softly a blue jay’s call
Echoing
in the chamber of trees O what did she
Find
what elusive sound did the branches hide?
No comments:
Post a Comment