Homage to Montale

This morning
The hummingbird’s
Pure zigzag
Surprises you—
Its indifference to
The long steps
Of your mood.

The bellflowers hold
Open their careful mouths,
The wind booms softly,
Stone breathes in and out,
Millennia.

In various media
The Leader smiles as if
His teeth
Were a balm of sorts.
He repeats words
Carefully
As if lecturing
A class of children
Who pretend to be listening.

Aieee! Your head
Is full of human hurt.

Phrases will never
Anneal one
Scattered kiss of rain.
Always
You must walk
In the patrician light.

You raise your hands
Above your head
And birds stream
Through your cautious love.