Our Aspen Sings

garnish time with tones,

it’s music!
those oscillating leaves
beyond the hoop house splashing light
from a silvery green crown of aspen
—quick crisp rustle,

spray from a fountain real
as the rain of sparks
that flew from a grinder
my father held to steel
—from those rustling leaves,
its glittering voice sparking,
our aspen sings

Jim Culleny