I am going to once again sing here
Where sunset drips off the magnolia
Dampened enough to see with naked eyes.
The red fox prowling through the rough for mice
That has survived winter and bouts of mange
I am going to give water, and a good name,
If he should eat some berries out of my palms.
Around the yard a cardinal pecks for worms
Like a small flame spreading over dry grass,
I am going to whistle through his feathers
And dream they are from some fighter’s headdress
Lost at the theft of his ancestral hut
Near the confluence of the Neuse and Trent––
I am going to sit here until it gets dark.

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