come and disappear
beating branches
without reply

this blue allowed-
in the hollow
pecking otherwise

dry done hitting
hard echoes 
of dead wood.

bore with needle
beat of beak- 
as draining tap

let the drilled sap
drain back for
the sake of three.

way down here-
thus by every
common man

fresh cut greens-
shoot in desperate
stands of three

one let go-
when every way
was right and wrong

one side pouring-close
while the reform
of time wears on.