Do You See?
Seeds are birds
They peck on dark leftover clouds in the corners
Clouds or souls that pine to leave
With night, fog and disembodied leaves
Dropping one two three
From the great white oak on the lawn
It is still slender
Yet to grow in girth
Mimics the dreams and mysteries this day
May bring or night may savor –
Brief passion, eyes of amber, skin that sizzles
And masquerades to waltz with the wind
A crazy reveler who talks to the dead
In a tongue that lives, forever lives.