an ecology
Leaned on March wind till it bore meOn nursery rhyme wing and no prayer and no careInto the airThere at the dawn of my cosmos. Upside down swoon in blue glory,Reflexively swam never finned never wingedWho never sinnedThinned out in Spring in my city. High as a kite in the morning,As high as a king a balloon or like noonSun late in JuneSpoon-feeds the leaves of my forest. Freed yet enthralled in euphoriaI'm lost when the three o'clock light silver lightSummer's day lightLights on the green of my meadow. Strong in descent swooping soaringWhen heightens each sense of the Fall when hearth callsWhen ripe fruits fallTall grow the fruits of my family. Old by the fireside with stories.Dark evenings it's fine merriment time well spentNo heaven sentStrength in the bones of my homestead. Still on cold ground midnight hoaryThese folded wings grizzled and tiredAnd expiredDissolve in mireSiring the whole of my future.