Chorus of red clamoring for seeds, playing in shadows
of an old cypress tree, bobbing through rows of zinnias
and snapdragons. Oh, sun! you sneak through blinds
leaving imprints of every petal on walls that sometimes
hold me in. Waves speak so softly, from so far away
pulling me close when tides are high like the mountains
it took me years to find; the ones I imagined on clouds;
willows swaying to and fro in winds carrying my heart
close to his, feathers flying south where my roots lie
deep in soil; in bluebonnets, like poetry, sweet sonnets.
When I lie down, leave me in fields, looking up, for, there
is nothing more beautiful than gazing into this Texas sky,
blue and embracing a blanket of twinkling, twilight stars.