Autumn leaf girl

That rockmelon moon

Leant to a smile

A girl, leaf brown

Fell from a tree

From limbs with mouths

That age old gnarl

Turned yellow eve, russet, sun lost

Spiralled down to holes and with 

The endless shape

Of clasped hands  

In her soughing, see-saw breath

From the morning, scattered

What the magpie said

Whistle a magpie song
Count almost to seven
As she bends a wing
The ash and char long after fire
In that dancing way
With a tilted query
To ask only this;
You have neither tongue
Nor beak, to sing a newfound morning
Nor yet a rise of quills to make
Of the swell of day a flight
From merriment to soaring
Yet with a caw of half-broke voice
You pretend to sing
I will turn, and bow and pause and carefully watch and wonder
In the narrows of bird-caution
Is this a mockery in your voice
Or the joy of worship?