
chugging upriver,
past karst spires, the boaters’
time seems to slow.

chugging upriver,
past karst spires, the boaters’
time seems to slow.

a water lily
opens in the morning sun:
reciprocal glow.

side-by-side trees:
one bloom-laden; one with
a few lingerers.

brisk morn dragonfly:
too cold to move, or dead?
unmoved by footfall.
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church --
I keep it, staying at Home --
With a Bobolink for a Chorister --
And an Orchard, for a Dome --
Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice --
I, just wear my Wings --
And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church,
Our little Sexton -- sings.
God preaches, a noted Clergyman --
And the sermon is never long,
So instead of getting to Heaven, at last --
I'm going, all along.








