Song of Myself

Song of Myself

I said I came to see the trees grow which is to say
I didn’t know where peace, how peace, what peace,
what blending of imagination and green and
flower and bluestem. Now that I’ve learned

a handful of names and beheld how color rises
and works and gives way, now that I’ve seen
the ephemeral pond flood and dry, now that
I’ve witnessed bumble bees nuzzle the centers

of asters, now that I’ve chilled when a poem
branches into prose and warmed when prose
turns lyrical, now as these lines break and build,
now as these fragments seek a main clause. Now.

Imagine now green where, now flower how,
now bluestem and now myself what. Now song.

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