Ye Caterpillar
SUMMER SUBPOEMA
Granite snowman
growanek growth of gold
lichen licks your old head -
your grass-skirt and blessed
pointed head to the sky.
Sweet birds of summer
come to swoop by you,
fly-past swiftly African aircraft
swallowing midges a-wing -
sing simple songs flung
over dungmellow flatfields -
summer a-come.
Licking breezes cool
wrapped around old stone spool,
then a stillness
in the cloverdotted pathcrossed field,
Stone Holy to Ancients
with Oceanic view,
glimpse the stars
Look! Old is new
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