(After Ted Hughes’ Hawk Roosting)
From buds of sycamore I shall unfurl,
as drip by drip with words insinuate
my waxy sap, ink wet. I seek to curl
about your nerves with words; articulate
the unctious waves, retorts so worldly-wise
with wit. Recount each phrase of the absurd
or tender note as I identify
as ‘poem’ in the general sense of word.
I'll twist and fly my fluttered planes, my seeds
to spaces white, of stanza mystery
you'll try to understand my writ-hand deeds,
your eyes are veiled to my self-mastery.
To find me, look above the canopy
of human lexical dichotomy.