IN THE CORNER
BEHIND THE FERNS
IS A MIRROR
PLACED BY CHANCE
AND CIRCUMSTANCE
TO REFLECT THE
PRIVATE GARDEN
DARK AND LIGHT,
DAY AND NIGHT
IT JUST IS,
WAITING FOR A
COMPANION WHO
ARRIVES EARLY
EACH MORNING
AND SCOOTS QUICKLY
ACROSS THE FLOOR
TO A SOFT GREEN
SPACE FILLED WITH
SHOOTS AND BUDS
HIDDEN AWAY IN THE
QUIET, WAITING TO
HAVE A DAY
IN THE SUN,
BUT NOW HE’S BEGUN
TO BOUNCE
AND TAP
AND POUND,
THINKING THE
REFLECTION HE SEES
IS THE DOORWAY
TO HEAVEN,
WHERE ALL THE
SWEET LOINS OF
PLANTING AWAIT
FOR HIM ALONE,
I HEAR HIS RADICAL
NOISE EVERY DAY,
A CROSS BETWEEN A
PING AND A PONG,
RADIATING SLIGHTLY
ENOUGH TO BE OBVIOUS,
I PEER OUT TO WATCH
AS HE FLINGS HIMSELF
TIME AFTER TIME
TOWARD THE IMAGE
HE BELIVES IS A SECRET,
A HAVEN TO BUILD A NEST
AWAY FROM THE REST
WHERE NOBODY WILL
HARM OR ALARM HIM,

THEY POP UP BEHIND YOU
IN SILLY SURPRISE
AND STAND THERE
SMILING WITH
BIG BRIGHT EYES
WANTING TO TOUCH
AND SHAKE A HAND
SHY AND HALF-NERVOUS
MAKING A STAND,
AS I WANDER THE
FESTIVAL SHOOTING
THE ARTISTS
I MEET QUITE A FEW
THAT KNOW ME
ON CUE
THEY WATCH THE TV SHOW
WHILE CREATING
THE WORK
THAT BRINGS THEM
TO MARKET
ON HIGHT END ALERT,
THEY STAND BEHIND
COUNTERS, SHUFFLING
THEIR FEET,
PUSHING AHEAD
WHILE BEING DISCREET,
JUST TRYING TO
SHOW THEIR WARES,
IT’S A HARD ACT
TO MAINTAIN
WHILE NOBODY CARES,
THEN WE ARRIVE TO
QUERY AND TOUCH,
WHILE WE REALLY DO FILM
AND FULFILL THEM
AS SUCH,
AND IN BACK OF
MY HEAD
I REMEMBER INSTEAD
THE SAME EXACT FEELINGS
THAT LEFT ME IN REELING
AND SCARED SENSATION
WAS IT LONG AGO
OR JUST THE OTHER DAY
WHEN I WAS TRYING
TO WIN THEIR WAY,
RECOGNITION COMES
SLOWLY, LIKE RINGING
A BELL, FIRST YOU
YANK AND YOU PULL
AND GO THROUGH
SOME HELL, PUSHING
TO FIND THE GROOVE
THAT WILL FIT.
MAKE THE GOODS
PUBLIC AND ALWAYS
A HIT,