new ears, new skin

Mark Vogel


Birds do it

Ella Fitzgerald croons letting in
the big band beating heart
born long ago in smiling dark night
as a brassy force against looming war,
saying again unreal innocent dancing
only feeds just right attraction,
that nothing ages during fresh open giving.

A morning thunderstorm builds--
the temperature rises—and smooth Ella
sways slow to growing breeze, dancing
to right steps in vulnerable new skin.
In sweet light when one moves,
so much is forgotten.  Before a wide,
fertile gaze, nothing is lost or needed.

No matter that it took years to know
more than her name, to wade right in,
for right now her shiny beauty sings
brash free welcome, giving permission,
owning tyrannical time, teaching grace
in proud alive air, effortless doing
just what she pleases.

Bees do it.