if they look
look for me
I shall be spread
full and wide
beneath the silver beech tree
with nettles in my hair
and stars for a crown
I shall lie awake and
know the sound
ringing about these bounds
gaze at stars as
new as dew
sparkling on wet blades
of new grass
sample the heady draft
of spring riding on
air-drifts subtle as
a child’s innocent kiss
on a moist cheek
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