March, Upstate
a new poem
March, Upstate
All at once,
the crash of birdsong
becomes clear crystal
revolving mid-air.
A crystal
segmenting the new sun
into panes of sound.
All at once,
spring tangles
the senses.
The field melts
into its reflection—
I walk the edge
of an inverted world.
All at once, I love this poem.
This touched me gently. Thank you. I love the thought: All at once, spring tangles the senses.
Your photography is remarkable, as always.