They are so high in the laddered hemlocks fairy wings torn, dressed up pirate angels unaware of my watching them, caught up in their courage & gleeful ascent. Beseech you, mother of backyards protect my daughters when I can no longer reach them. Wrap them in green and gold. Repair those wings that they may fly far above these aging pines, the deer trails & rabbit runs, soft ankle-twisting mole mounds. Preserve the perches they share with squirrels, and jays. If not for them, then for children waiting to claim a kingdom of their own. Sailing ships in fallen timbers.
Early Morning Poems 