So many days before
the warm-wind is back,
and I am looking for angels
beneath the dirt of my lawn,
where I sleep and dance and pray
in June;

I open my mouth and scream
into the ground,
so only the bugs and dead things know
what I am afraid of:
   that tomorrow I will be older
and still know nothing.

-Ellery Rose

The way Bertha is described
She more woman
Than I could handle
You'll get more than
A Silent Echo
When you yodel
In that canyon.