stonepoem : 365

All hear the Bellowhead
Sucking us in - like fireflies
Circling end of summer sigh
From young bucks leap
O’er old man’s grimace grey.
Like madrigal birds at dusk -
On accordion breath that heaves,
With fiddling sentry’s hotfoot dance
To circus lights and roguery.
Let it blow like Bucovina brass
And let us show our red flamed hair,
Then know this copper breeze
That hails a bellowed call
Of grand traditions,
In the air.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 27th, 2005 at 5:44 pm and is filed under Senses. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.