THE TREES ARE WEARING HOOLA HOOPS FOR EARRINGS
The trees are wearing hoola-hoops for earrings
Leaves dance like a head of curly hair.
Playful wind curves a journey around them,
Chasing roundabouts, clapping hands in circle games.
And the child buries the gun in time for play.
The trees are wearing hoola-hoops for earrings,
Someone threw them up there,
And noone brought them down.
They are bright pink and blue,
And they clasp on a branch or two,
Readily adorning curly cute crazy leaves.
Confirming whimsy
Feeding freedom
On the trees wearing hoola-hoops for earrings.
Down underneath just before play
The child buries the gun
And dances on the grave.
Down underneath just before play
The child buries the gun
And reads a book on the grave.
But the trees are wearing hoola-hoops for earrings.
<previous poem next poem>
|