from Rough Cuts & Kindling

Dale Pendell

 

 

Spring Song

 

Flowers know:

    open with the first sun;

    crack the drudgery,

        drying soil,

    quick as they can.

 

Pines sprout:

    know water won't last,

    no time to waste

        in the hasty spring.

 

Birds know:

    songs rise with the morning.

    We,   also.

 

Come let's kiss the greening--

    tomorrow's feet are lost to labor--

Brush our backs against the sun;

    lie together, let these mountains

Rush, beneath us, back to sea.