That fire has been burning for a long, long
stint
and one blue ball twists and turns akimbo
delighting water, up and up, to air
and a whiter flower bursts into gold
and a tiny creature sucks at liquor
and that tiny creature’s gobbled by a
flying bird
landing in a treetop, hammering a song
for Spring, for Spring, carousaling Spring.
Vincent, i have noticed you a lot on twitter and have been to your blog before.
ReplyDeleteI'm wondering if you would like to join other authors on my new poetry site.
Harry.
http://poetscornerblog.wordpress.com/