the mind a monolithic Aberdeen
in the middle of a fantasy
where all goes well between you and me
you are my spring where June may avail
bird on the wing of a dove in love spinning her tale
I will fail no doubt to lend
the end of such sweet harmony
to bend like spoons weighted down by too much sugar
stirred to awaken a sense of milk and honey
left of tomorrow’s yesterday’s
birds sip sweetest sap from the maple milked to tap
buoyant buzzard bargains for bones in the shoulders
of boulders-
camping out bugs bite bats borrow ubiquitous unity
bears outfox fish for lunch beavers bristle
civilization dine on vacation steak gristle
I am so lost not knowing the cost too much so little
incurable thirst the juice of an orange wets the whistle
where is my prayer book what have I done
with my leather bound missile?
my silence is saved it goes to the grave-our little miracle
an answer so sweet to rub your feet to gain your trust
to know that you love me as best as you can
is genuinely just
God bless you woman.