Apr 162012
 

This is the first morning of the first day.
Even the grass looks like its being born,
Its green is so tender, matching your eyes,
As we learn to walk together down the unworn path.

Birds hesitate, amazed by the songs in their throats,
The wild corollas of sound at their command–
Even the mocking bird, even the warbler, hesitate,
Testing bright notes in the new sky and new land.

The trees look as young as fresh pea-tendrils.
Today, water is closest to happy tears.
Smiles cover our faces like big chrome grills–
The first hour of the first day of the first year!

I look over at you in your coat and your broach,
Ask your name, and, slowly, approach.

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