The beautiful clouds of a high summer sky

Rush by like a stone flung from a sling

Designed to bruise but not kill my stone dreams

Inspire me to sing the high-fluted songs of summer

Contrary to the dumb laws of matter

I wear my profusion lightly and glance behind the show-screen of coincidence

Into the heart of the matter.

Swans swimming with their young through these moments of vision

Track our lives as surely as a Global Positioning System

Posing the questions we are not inclined to answer

Poets' evasions are of a different order of being:

First, rising like a helium balloon to view the mountains and the valleys,

Then, borrowing an inclination to deceive from the liars and false lovers.

Finally, asking, who puts mirrors above their bed so that they can easily evade

The need to live?