glowing in a shaft of sunlight:
an emerald pinned
to the forest's heart.
She stepped onto the moss;
it oozed around her feet;
she danced; her mauve apron dress,
her carnival eyes.
She was humming,
sending her semi-song to me,
and as the sun held her dazzling,
I was in darkness, standing aside.
I saw how the light loved her hair,
fingered its goldness
while she was spinning down;
and the moss was at her knees.
She was laughing,
she was always laughing,
but I could see the cold bursting
spring growth in her face.
And then her hair was spreading out,
the green carpet creeping up to her neck;
she, her young face
on the floor of the forest.
Later, when the sun had left,
left the forest to the circuit-making spiders and me;
still standing by the sphagnum pool
I was repeating " good-bye, good-bye, good-bye".