She-Willow

Her willow-wires, brown and battered,
reach, in confused and tangled masses,
through vacant airs, grasping nothing,
while leaves whisper with softened voices:
"Shhhhh...she sees, though she be blind;
she shades in shadows from scorching sun;
she sighs, she weeps, she seeks to find
her spouse...be hushed, she be undone."
And so, hanging over quivering waters
which she augments yet with dewy tears,
she waits and heaves in warmest breezes
that pass through her and fade away.

Oversleeping

The adolescent day is sulking.

Smoke-clouds hide the reticent sun.

The feeble light is scarcely able

to pierce the brittle windowpane

and bestir the sleeper from a dream

that he will not recall upon waking.

Ingénue

She reminds me

of a graveside funeral

I once attended

when spring sunlight

arrived to brighten

little drops of dew

lingering on the grass

that had been mown

earlier that morning.

Winter in June

Snowfall is covering the flowers bright,

a chill wind is blowing through golden light.

Robins are warbling an icy tune,

sorrowful over this winter in June.

Green leaves are stiff and voiceless now,

the fruit falls frozen from the bough.

Squirrels shiver in their nests at noon,

sorrowful over this winter in June.

Warmth is fleeing far from here,

the setting sun is weak and drear.

Night-eyes behold a brittle moon,

sorrowful over this winter in June.