Unscreened weatherworn the doorjamb melts into what I remember was our private yard: 5 The flowers on the trees (once red, some white, all green) have blossomed into leaves sung at noon drooped by four. 10 The chickadees twitch among trunks for pebbles. The young birds eat them up and eat whatever else they find which pleases them. 15 By some hidden wind they ruffle to wails in the usual hollows together with a few early leaves. Yellow and sun-white predominate. 20 These are the colors of fullness and wait. But somehow my shrill eyes are missing you among all 25 August sways on the stem because it is warm as flowers go.
From the collection "Youth Youth Youth"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.