Frantic consonants, sibilant
and jangly, leaf-shaking
these lifts of the alphabet birds,
who fly their X and V
shapes from W branch
to B bush; blackwinged
alphabet birds
against the asterick stars.
I'm pshoooooing air -
35 pounds into four tires -
and that row of border elms
barely six feet tall apiece
is shadow green and black glitter;
the dusty air is sounding frantic
and nut-bean-pod poisoned
by the alphabet birds at dusk
who flitter in the yen
path of their glimmer trees.
They are wild in their flicker
praise, quickwinged jubilant,
settling on a black R branch
to wait only an instant -
an E or an O -
before the fat launch of
M O O N
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