Sounds From Way Down And A Single Rose Poem by Frank Avon

for the Postmoderns


Listen:

Gladly I glisten,
I'm greedy to whisper:

Some how Some where
there's another nest

as I hear woodpeckers
conjugate my eaves

Some how Some where
I hear the woodpeckers
Gladly conjugate

in another nest.
My eaves glisten,
I whisper ever so gladly.

At one age broken-hearted,
now I wager
it's where I started,

where, broken-hearted,
at my age now, I wager,
too unwieldly to conjugate.

My verb is thrust
your noun is tundra.
Everything else is floribunda.