sputter and chip,
rebuke me with variants
of raucous croon,
you perky piccolo of fuss,
high on a spruce,
helming azure.
if i could shimmy, bristle,
and cackle like you,
besotted by the spirit of
Puck,
would i, too, dash
from my own moods,
a child lost to daredevilry--
and forget the madness
of the mean world
through the quicksilver roan
of my flips?
Chris Crittenden, Maine, USA
superb writing...
ReplyDeleteen admiration depuis la France ...!
ReplyDeleteThey do sputter, chip and cackle, don't they?
ReplyDeleteWell-written, enjoyable piece. Thanks.
Fun poem. Love the word "daredevilry" and all the "stacatto" words.
ReplyDelete