YOUR SONG

Photo by S. Auberle

YOUR SONG

Life is good when you listen
to the song inside you,

listen to what makes it sing,
what stills it's voice.

When I come home
through the bright blue door, it sings.

When I hear a cardinal's song
in evening heat, it matches his.

My song serenades the terns
with their breakneck dives,

red bills, headfirst
into green waters.

In old, hilltop graveyards
it sings, softly,

though the dead delight,
I think, to hear it,

and it plays to you, my heart,
on summer afternoons

when mares tail clouds
float across the sky.

How good it is in this lonesome world
when someone hears our song.

- mimi