Bare-breasted summer fowl
Burnt red and yellow face
Their light etched; photograph
A bushy tail gives chase
Such primitive posture
Testing each solemn blade
Yet to greet Apollo
Along his skyward race
Legato, longing fingers
Listless between the breeze
Summer’s colors; lacrimosa
Of green not yet to please
Winter encrusted coats
Delight; rambling blades
Tumble ‘twixt fair knolls
Of naked, crinkled shades
Thump! Thump! His red hair bumps!
Beneath a knotty swell
Tapping! Dancing! Sublimely fancy!
His echo setting sail
A chirp! Alert! New neighbor, look!
Your cousin fin’lly moved
Across! Across! Sir Robin, I knock!
Shall I pour this tea for two?
My darling, Pine, I trace your spine
Caressing bark and wood
Seeing your knots exposed and taut
Would I be so, if stood –
I to face each weather and change
That god thought to season
Were to leave; to shade; reprieve
My love, I’d lose all reason
I see you, child, your skin of ebony
Wading endlessly amongst the shallows
Oblivious you seem to our presence
While you tend the koi and orphaned fallow
Your exotics’ fragrance delight the night
While tanninful grapes enrapture, incense
Lovers to fall for agéd illusions
Where your garden, your Eden, has gone thence