Original Spring Poem

You wake like the first wind blowing

Your hat off – an awkward embarrassment of time

Or like the original spring poem

In which flowers laugh and levitate

In every line.

We can meditate on the chronology of this

All night long on the train---but out the window

The yellowest mountain of all

Is darkening in a careless moonlight.

Go back to sleep, I tell you.

Tomorrow we’ll keep our hats off

In the wind---but let our bodies elevate

And flap like clumsy birds, laughing

To the end.