Bright chartreuse edged, magenta flowers, with lavender
just beyond in the bee fields of summer, thousands of seeds, days spilling over
planted in early autumn rains, to wait again, dotted in red rows of poppies.

Today no clouds will come
only purple mountains glow, before the sun
beyond these fragrant hills, I wander
watching hawks and sparrows
til the golden day slips away
and I am lost between the space
of night and day, and lose all trivial words
and think how glorious
to be a bird