A pretty girl
Pretty like a song
A poem
Like a bird she flies so high
Her voice soft as a feather
She has rosy lips and big brown eyes
A smile that lights up the room
You could tie her in ribbon and put her on a shelf
And she would live in a dollhouse
I stare at her in admiration
I do love her so
But suddenly my eyes turn crooked
As envy takes the soul
I’m a shadow in the dark
A sad sad story
Though I am not ugly
I certainly am not the glory
My skin is jagged while hers is soft
She is big and I am not
With my big sad eyes and smile I despise
I stare in jealousy as she prances with pride
I want to be beautiful
And I really do try
But nothing compares to her
A bird that flies so high

Seemingly hiding
But there's bout their
             home
Place they grew up
To achieve their own throne
Covered by sorrow
Like pine or
                     thy leaves
Never a hussle
After it pours to the
                                   seems

Careful little paths
          up
Some      and some
                                  down
Sleep all dressed up
but it's just a night gown
Care for each other
Cleanse one another
But its not a
                      lover
Just preseance of one's brother
Bright of the morning
one  lovely  symphony
Thy birds in a tree
As          as
      calm     can be

Strolling in a labyrinth of bleeding hearts
with ghost orchids whispering forget-me-not.

Along a path paved with celestites,
the Queen of the Night unfurls by the labradorites,
with the crown carried by Firecrests
as Lorikeets stroll in flight, wings burrowed in the wind, enthralled
by the nightingale's lush rhapsodies.

The sanctum — a rosette of Angel's trumpets,
alluring Snowy Egrets as Snowdrops embrace the sunset.

When a detective falls in love, he does not know who to bill for expenses--
everything is up in the air.

At a mixer for suspects, he invites me to dance via loudspeaker.
Radiant in my white dress, I resemble a snowy owl
even down to my carefully bandaged hand which he takes without hesitation.
I whisper in his ear:

I am Leon Czolgosz.
Your heart is the President of the United States of America.
We are dancing in Buffalo, city by the Niagara.
My detective, of course, falls hard.

The next time we meet, I wait for him in the bullpen at the police station.
They know him there.
They hire cellists.
He confesses his deepest fantasy to me:

I want to speak words of love to you
via telephone
with our hands naked and separated only by the safety glass.
I want the call recorded
and broadcast to wild lovers around the globe.

Shortly after, we are married. I wear my favorite bearskin robe.
My small black cubs frolic nearby,
climbing the pews and then tumbling gaily down again.
My detective is resplendent in his tuxedo.
The hired band plays Funiculi Funicula.
I snarl when my detective gets too close to the cubs, and this inflames him.

At last, we lie in bed together, like busy machines come to rest.
I am wearing nothing but the revolver-shaped earrings he has given me.
My detective wears a felt fedora
and a look of smug adoration like a daredevil over the falls in a barrel.
I am The Queen of the Mist,
suspected in various thieveries, check kiting, and jaywalking.

Our love is an aviary
where birds wheel above the thundering water like intelligent confetti.
Look in your mailbox, I tell my detective.
I have left you a valentine and an Easter egg.
He asks if, after all, I am his mystery client.
I enter a plea of innocent.
My love is happy now, laughing.

Hard rocks
Below my feet.
A songbird sings.
I start to weep.

A steaming teapot
Sat on the wall.
A cool breeze.
I start to bawl.

A lonely leaf
kisses the lake.
The branch softens.
It does not break.

A moss-coated doorframe
Water dripping down.
A splash on my forehead
Lifts up my frown.

Moonlight in the panes
Sharp like a dagger.
Cuts through thought.
My mind starts to stagger.

A hand-woven pillow
my head it shall meet.
The owl sings.
My soul falls asleep.

I look at the tree standing tall
It's just standing there in rain and shine, and wind
It doesn't move,  it doesn't talk, not a sound
Sometimes I wonder, what is going on inside of it

The tree is there to serve us, asking for nothing
No rent is charged to the birds that make it their home
No sitting charge, no waiting charge, no matter
For how long you stay on its branch or under its shade

Apart from that, the tree is giving us flowers and fruits
It produces them for the birds and animals to consume
It consumes none of its output, only gives it away  
To come and take as much as you can FOC

I sometimes wonder, is this tree for real
How can you give, give, give and only ask
That you leave it alone to do its work
It's work of serving you wholly and totally

I salute you, O Tree, and I salute your creator
For all that you do, for all that you do
For the birds, animals, humans, and even insects
Thank you, O Tree. Thank you, O Tree

A crippled dove is dying; her wound a dusky red
in the maple's crook she's hiding.
Her heart her wedding song; herself the newlywed.

A carmine blaze upon her breast to mark the place she's bled
like a penitent confiding
A crippled dove is dying; her wound a dusky red

The purple splay of sunset now reveals a fraying thread
in her tiny breast subsiding--
her heart her wedding song; herself the newlywed.

Beneath her injured wing, she hides her tawny head
as the sun is lower gliding
a crippled dove is dying; her wound a dusky red.

The summer grass, soon bereft, would take her place instead
except for circumstance dividing--
her heart her wedding song; herself the newlywed.

The presiding night has finished; the ceremony said--
her new master toward the threshold swiftly striding.
A crippled dove is dying; her wound a dusky red--
her heart her wedding song; herself the newlywed.

Wood pigeon, wren and linnet call
chaffinch, greenfinch, welcome all
dine with me, come pull up a seat
sing soft on the fountain, watch me eat
drink from a day that is near to ending
all fierce promise dulled and blending

I hear "the birds"
outside calling —
but at zero degrees
I am sorry!
It's like Emily's phrase:
"When [even] shadows hold their breath" --
I will enjoy you from the inside
and warming,