Syncopate your recurrences.
Fill out the subdivisions of a measured,
'Ecoutez!'
Warble and trill as you flit by,
streaming sonic banners of your thang;
for spring-time's a theater where
'tan-tan-tan' might just as well clang
a tintinabulating Pavlov
pan-lid until tittering
rounds into roll of stillness.
For now, the little covey-flurry's
left the stage -
huff of fluff flew by protesting
young madam puss
has trailed out her tall litheness;
and when this little vicinity falls quiet,
my mind likewise.
