I mend the fence
With goldfinches
And while I work
Knowing how little there is—
Summer,
Primal tendons,
How does one say it?
My death talks
With the birds
Above me
Who call back
That I might hear.
Heard, Not Seen
I mend the fence
With goldfinches
And while I work
Knowing how little there is—
Summer,
Primal tendons,
How does one say it?
My death talks
With the birds
Above me
Who call back
That I might hear.
