The Orphic Lyre
Shadow Liberty / John Barnes

Yet unblemished poet
this tree is your lyre
singing in the wild wind
while roots reverberate the soil
and earthworms rejoice
like words in a chorus

Or high kicking legs
the preamble to caterpillars
walking a fallen log
threads of white music
stitching silk stockings
punctuation
wrapping every digit
with pauses

Before the weight of meaning
hesitates in the ear
and we peel back words
fluttering in the heart
past death
into daydream
masked in shadows
of singing leaves