MJ blathers

dark poet who loves to laugh

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firs and lone spruce chitter

over tidings spilled

by o’er-flying geese


sway to prattle-tattle

as curious breeze insinuates

among the branches


evergreens pining to hear

shiver in green scent

redolent with excitement


sigh, needled by tidbits

items too scant to satisfy

the itch for whole story


tale grows, stands disagree

branches frenzied in furious dispute

goaded by whiplash wind


gradually calmer cones prevail

‘we will leaf this,’ they bark

the grove quiets to murmurs