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.