Just like reverie and cadence

send sparrows in advance,

so jamboree and pine

make for an utter time.

But forward birds of settling

are different than those tykes.

Yeah, they're swiping hatches (though lacking might)

and sending natives into flight.

It's true that generations

can be lost to infiltration,

but take heart in time of fight-

when grasping hands take part, of boy and girl alike.

I guess there's a sort of peace

waiting to be breached

between ask of need and ask of care:

practicing it myself is only fair.

My mother, in her favor,

would sew our names unlabored.

But one day they were sewn in cotton

and by next season they turned maudlin.

Those garmented revelations

of ruthless combination

she threw into the air.

What we left there must now be reshared.

So I'll take these last lines

to tell you I'm just fine,

for I'm stepping to a mind

that deals ancient rhymes of a new-age kind.