Tymbol roar in treetops’

tossing crowns…

Soloists joined in chorus,

cycles converging

– annual, periodic –

indifferent to expectation;

pausing only to sip

hot nectar of oak and ash,

willow and maple,

between careless verse of

antique songs

– skyward, tossed –

to the panting, radiant

dog star.

— C.Birde, 7/19