She sings with drifting cedar green fins
they tread air
above the peacock feather ferns
reaching up, they do not care.

They tread air
reveal something nude
reaching up, they do not care
these green tangled multitudes.

Reveal something nude
those shoulders ‘neath the moss, uncover
these green tangled multitudes
of our drifting, this fecund other.

Those shoulders ‘neath the moss, uncover
some dream of she of red washed earth
of our drifting, this fecund other
reaches with a low dirge.

Some dream of she of red washed earth
does not wait, she rushes
reaches with a low dirge
a hanging vibrant suite, a pearl tipped hush.

Does not wait, she rushes
she sings with drifting cedar green fins
a hanging vibrant suite, a pearl tipped hush
above the peacock feather ferns.