When the sun is hot
It warms the skin;
The weeds;
The woods;
& everything left
Over from wynter-tide
Hungry is our acceptance
Thirsty, the epidermis
Through cones & rods
Streaming, as we're
Screaming 'Light!
& Life!
& Flesh!
& Feast!'
Every inch of fiber
In anticipation of this moment
The pistil of the field
Stretched taut to the blue
Forest glade & brook
Practical gurggles
Amplified
Into this symphony
