Never stopping to hear trees sing
as my hunter took to the air
more epics were shed from a swift wing,
messages held on a loose string.
Hearts taken wholly and bare
until strong winds slashed with their sting.
Never leaving a lost note to ring
not a hollow reach did they dare
more careless with dreams they did fling,
from trees with tired arms aching.
Leaves quiver with songs left to bear
with seasons ripe for the breaking.
Humming nonsense a perched bird wrings
its talons finally rest with cool care-
sweet restraint among other things.
I gave away the dark wing
when but shadows spilled there,
a softness I could still bring
a light but strong voice sing.
The Word Rummager 
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