Kokopelli
Tumbling gray clouds
come clothed in a bundle
of rhythmic chords
as Kokopelli comes.
Coming closer.
In his back pack
tricks of his trade,
flesh of green leaf
seeds, willow
sprouts.
Knocking around
the hollow of his
hunched back,
moss like string,
rich new shoots,
scruffy fluff,
all those things
that make a bird sing.
He tramps over fields
of slush, leaving puddles
in his tracks looking
for possibilities hidden
beneath frozen ground.
Kokopelli is early this year
looking for a place to plant
his patch of Spring.
Scott Malby
Posted over on Motherbird
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