We Walk Amongst The Pregnant
Trees In Torpid Flower, In Breezeless
Damp That Hangs A Cloying Pall
And Can-‘t Relieve The Rising Scent.
Breathing In The Aching Draughts
Of Liquid-Laden Air, As Redolent
As Chloroform Intense And Sweet,
Disarming Eyes And Aching Head.
Hear The Toneless Roaring Of The Bees,
A Drowning Silence So Complete
That Chirping Birds Cannot Be Heard
Seek The Treeless Margins For Relief.
The Drug Of Life Returning Turns A Sweet
Dependency, A Yearning So Replete
Your Aching Eyes Will Yearn Away To
Seek Respite And Sleep Awake.
Seeking Signs Along The Way, Of Tiny
Greening Nodules Rising On The Panicles
In Flower Aspirant, Orchard Pests Aloft On
Guilty Wings In Skittered Flight.
Above The Setting Fruit Delight In
Red-Bronzed Leaves Exciting Burst
From Soft-Wood Twigs Ascending Into
Light-Delivered Orchard Joie De Vivre