It is exactly as it is here in this
life a woman
Is there strumming a ukulele and singing
a slight
Song with eyes closed beautiful features and
Profoundly ripe fruit bananas and avocados
Mostly but possibly three or four soft
apples too
Pierced by arrows of smoke arrows of
sidewise
Moments falling upward to branches
where
Mute words not to be defined flutter
meekly
Poor wing-clipped words what is it
in you that so
Trembles and frets like a rope about
to break?
It is exactly as it is here in this
life a woman
Dances in a garden under the lights
of new
Puzzling stars and it is said the
cuckoos come
Often to sing in time with her
slightest breath
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