Kit Kelen #645 - under the mulberry

645

under the mulberry

spring comes

snout to the ripe sun

so far fallen

not all eyes are up

some long errands

here paused

for refreshment

half the valley knows

chainsaw starting

hear cows farting

paddocks off

in these branches

everyone sits

they drop in

you could say

all entitled

everyone busy

black of beak

none show tickets

branches catch

those who fall gorging

waves of tribe come by

the tree is leafed like life

wrens fend each little twitch of the map

they have the twig turn down

what kind of compass lands you here?

it must have been 'a little bird told me'

caucuses either side convene

the purple in the green, the black

bower birds too

all the upwardly mobile

and often retreat

to a gum

or cheese tree over creek

considering there, digest

swoop back

because there's more

light falls all through the mulberry

as breakfast is blessing

and I must get me some

I underneath, of a feather

three cheers for the tangle of all that was let

nobody has time to sing though

this is the tree's shout

fruit shakes all round

consider the years to here

I've seen this tree

trimmed to an angry stump

and tangled in potato vine

too dense to find the fruit

imagination was required

then as it is now

over the mulberry the channel billed cuckoo

has won

wears this year's crown

and yet forgets

spring is in the cuckoo too

all will forget what the tree is for

lie down in the picnic shit

hear next year's blossoms sing