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
4 comments:
superb writing...
en admiration depuis la France ...!
They do sputter, chip and cackle, don't they?
Well-written, enjoyable piece. Thanks.
Fun poem. Love the word "daredevilry" and all the "stacatto" words.
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