Four Tao philosophers as cedar waxwings
chat on a February berry bush
in sun, and I am one.
Such merriment and such sobriety--
the small wild fruit on the tall stalk--
was this not always my true style?
Above an elegance of snow, beneath
a silk-blue sky a brotherhood of four
birds. Can you mistake us?
To sun, to feast, and to converse
and all together--for this I have abandoned
all my other lives.
Submitted by Larry Bole
Waxwings
Robert Francis
(1)
Poem topics: sky, snow, together, wild, blue, fruit, small, mistake, february, true, beneath, sun, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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