In the first moment of the first hour of life there is
The movement of wind in fragrant grasses.
Possibilities of rain stir
The beginnings of broken watches unevenly ticking,
The old cats' howl, and
The long sound of an ancient lute.
He is so many essences.
Chrysanthemums will one day grow near him, and his smile
Will be a chrysanthemum, and his eyes will hold birch forests in a great snow,
Grey, and white, and white.
© by Ellen Reiss