repost from poetry blog April 2008
Light on the bough tip
at the spruce top
starling rock me to rest in my nest
Alain Caron and Jazz Café
provide dancing music
for ears worn of winter’s howl
sweet cool breeze
smoothe away thought
of wintertaut skin
moist clouds
wash mountain tops and eyes
with glad tears for April sun
liquid lips kiss
away thoughts
of too-long nights
and wafting warmth from fresh earth
still my face
to taste the tannins of Easter peace.
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