blue plate

a blue plate
a dangling strain of night rhyme
a tale and a basket
handing out tunes and bread for day
and another mile
and another song to say
sing and all will be brought and taken
like water and the blues
like time and the memory
and the scratched soul of a world
poised and ready to continue

say a line
and sing awhile
and all will be one

wait and watch
the door to further opens
and bird enters,
happy as a tree
and bright as light blue
seeing me
and seeing you
and still pulling words from throat
as morning mist blisters the end of summer night.

© Julyen Hamilton July 4 2005