Our Aspen Sings

take time,

garnish it with tones
and it’s music

take those and oscillating leaves
beyond the hoop house
splashing light
from the silvery green crown
of an aspen
—quick crisp rustle

—spray from fountain, real
as the shower of sparks
that flew from the grinder
my father held to steel

from those glittering leaves,
its rustling voice sparking,
our aspen sings

Jim Culleny