Warmth morning found me dancing
       through the even rotting moss.
Sky thickquickening cloud and tocome rain.
High&skyway pouring
     sound down
     from still
          bare trees.
But to find me now:
                   Ah, they would have if could
     to chase me in the life beneath the swallowing cliffs,
     scrumbling down the damp dirt slope and
                rock to fallen tree along curving
                quick(clear)ly running stream
     past silver glow of cans and
          shinely green wine bottles
     with the single leaf that earth
                               breath picked                                                                  kicked
     down to greet me.