Gay Birds Dancing 

Gay Birds Dancing 

The feet of dancing words
Tip lightly down the path
Dawn sprayed and all new
In their sheen of glory.

Dapple dreams spill
Luster on the day’s memory
Of old rocks with brown moss
Baking in celestial time. 

Fog covers the toad
And moistens the road
To better nights
Where glee dwells.

The notions of gay birds
Lay their folly like seed
On the prancing herds
Of free dancing words.