The birds warble
On the edge of the branches
Their song creates
A wave
That echoes
Like paper
Being torn
An echo
From outside
We would like to fold the leaves
Make them into
A ring
Pretty on our fingers
A pretence of getting married
She giggles
That is a bridge
We will never cross
We do not wish
Our souls to be soiled
By another's wishes
Again
We sigh
The heat is making us sleepy
Summer comes
Lightens everything up
Inside there is an emptying
A lightness
And wonder
We close our eyes
And see bubbles moving
Like the birds
We will climb up the branches
And sing our song.
