Bowerbird
Warmths and dews in the updrafts
medleys of auras and sheen
little tornadoes of bully music
wrestling branches
crossed and flecked with
snowpetals,
it shall be my greatest deed
at red dawn
to underscore you thus
bobbing and piling
stone upon stone
pink upon pink.
Orgy of focus and purpose
it is fun, in the clean air
to walk about you, leaving
in the saw dust tracks
for the wind
to soothe. I
take a feather
in my beak
let it drop
pick it up
let it...
at your...
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poem by Robert Dickerson
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