all the little birds. 2011

Groundwater runs strong in the spring after hibernation.

Unlike me. I slept for decades and coming alive

took the dawn and spare hours and tools

A noise of cellists running and playing e’s and g’s

Watching you I do feel the slow rising and falling of the empty belly of the day

Skinny day, belt lose on hips, lying back reclined from the light

It is here, in the little birds, in the twinkle of the rain 

It is here, that you stand and face it

Even if it turns you down

Loud concert roar cellists tuning turning their chairs to face the conductor with fortitude

the challenge and pace of the next piece