The Poetry Kit |
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The Elements Speak
Well, I
hope they’re happy with this one.
Our breeze
is set to sweep any rambunctious heat
from
shoulders and brows that feel its press.
Now they
can get down to serious flirtations
with
greens, random clouds, a laugh of wings.
As usual,
air was the only one of us acknowledged,
and even it had less arms-up and deep intakes.
One
consolation is we still have our old stand bys.
They’re
deep in our pockets of branch, water and field.
All that we
have to do is show up for them to start
their
peregrinations of shared paths and gifts.
It’s the
human sentients that make us worry.
They bump
into us and each other on one-way tracks.
They miss
the chatter and flapping somewhere in the cone
of the
Mountain Ash with its chandeliers of autumn orange.
Can you
imagine? Well, it was good for us.
We buzzed
about it right into full moon waves.
Just
because we’re slow and in the way, we won’t let go.
We’ll draw
them into our connections, show them the dead tree,
its shiny
branches a rest for anyone’s migration.
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