when your president
     old friend of yours
pardons you even before
you are legally sentenced
for assorted crimes

what do you call that?

Walking through the wood
unvisited because it's dull
as the days of my aging,
I don't care the species
of that singing bird,
but, I am desperate
to understand
the language of its call.

“…where a kelpie lived”

     “A little below the bridge was a pool where a kelpie lived.”

               -Sigrid Unset, Kristin Lavransdatter, p. 8

If you are blessed with a little back yard
The smallest of gardens, a bit of grass
Then you have pixies and fairies and sprites
They like you, but they’re awfully shy, you know

If in your garden there is a little pool
Even a dish of water for the cat
Then you have a tiny kelpie or two
(And they are much nicer than you’ve been told)

In flower and leaf and water and soft night air -
Oh, yes, there is sweet magic everywhere

We pay for our restraints, strap them to ourselves
And then we wonder why there is no joy