like men in parks

let us

greet the oriole-filled
morning with an ineluctable smile
and go merrily with argenteous waters and their rustling freedom,

be as flowers are, thirsty
for life, quenched by sweet ambrosia from the Earth's
hermetic vessels,

sojourn and watch slender fulminations of dawn ******
against the oleanders, the cypresses, the children tawny
with laughter, and the sparrow swift in wind's deepening hush

sing with the string of birds
and wait for women for us to
gaze at in their lush pelisses
as the heavens gather a mound
to graying, reckoning rain through
sills imperatively shut
as rain slowly announces its arrival

like men in parks
treading gently are
the passing flight of herons,
    their unnamable wings
truncating their
       journey as the day closes
its wide eyes and sleeps!