Peacock Loves Vangogh

this patter in the morning is invading my dream

my waking is adulterated by strange symphonies

what world is this which I am opening my eyes to?

The first light of spring

the first unfolding unfurling

of a snow white bud

as each tendril of sunlight winds

herself through the blinds of my eyelids

an excited bride

a newborn baby

the first flight

to somewhere

meeting my world face to face

how could I not want to tame her

into my own vision

and she shows me

her utter rebellion

and we laugh at one another

and the irony

of it all.