and then
there were
these riches
we found
breech in ...
under early gloaming light
the Hazel was staved, waved
bare armed still and trembling
ol' sentinel Winter tired
a-ready to burst to green ...
fae were playing
wrung weightless
in ways gold powder
stays a bitten
o'er mossy teeth
pulled to water
here again we sing, tongues
on old songs, ancient throngs
pollen-note deepening
bellow rhythms frogs make
buzzards murmuring, roosted above
in the pines behind
beyond the beg of light
bats dive and sway, all, are
eating approaching night
and right then
in that very moment
there wasn't a thing
we needed to know
as April warmed
turning towards
Beltane ...
EJR ©
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