Yellow Birch shrugs off
Her whispering, autumn leaves:
Golden butterflies!

Winter-white duvets
Cover our sleeping poets:
Voices linger here.

Crocuses break through
Earthen mounds:  Dead poets live
In the smallest sounds.

Shimmering heat bows
Shading willows o’er their brows:
Singing poets still.

© Mike Heenan, Beechwood, January, 2007