Red-Head by the River - 2004

She crowns herself, a burning red

And eyes, they dance like rivers

As she wafts her sweet perfume

Along the meadowland and way.

And, lo. But who forgives her?

Every reed that marks her path.

And whistle – ling, they speak

Her tune and loud as she, herself

Is burning red.

Is burning red and watching,

Whispering and who shall speak

But the yard bird in tuxedo

Sloshing whiskey in his feet?

But, red, she lights herself

Upon a fire and

Singes up the lawn.

Blows a kiss

Back to her shadow

      And she’s gone. . .

Still by the river does

The Day Sun, feels her

Waft upon her way.

Still by the river does

She waft upon her way.