Stars

What do the stars say?

I do not speak their language,

it is strange to me.

Crooning

Old Willow Woman

combing out her long tresses

crooning to the frogs

Is it not enough

that the pine at my window

seduces the stars?

Is it not a grace

that dandelion season

comes but once a year?

a box kite

plane geometry

off the page

seven wise serpents

wound around a hazy moon

hissing bitter truths

red paper lantern

flickering in my right hand

easing my way home