('Let the soft animal of your body love what it loves'--Mary Oliver)
the morning sings
without words
in a low musky voice
as tiny birds stiffen
to listen
begin their beak
quaking shiver
slick silver aeroplanes
soar and soak
in this cloud- cloaked
music,
shining hot
like fever
freely given
and the wind--
a crazy woman
in a red flouncy
skirt
starts to dance
ravish and flirt
across leg
skin
and feather
all awaken
to dawn’s song
shake wide alert
to open within
proud shimmering quivers
of beautiful tones
the beat pulses and pushes
its unscripted sound,
penetrates through
great and small both,
forever frenzied
inside and around
in such magical buzz
and grand tuneful
seductive resound
gratefully we bow
to this unmild
wild weather!
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