Petit, the Poet + 

Seeds in a dry pod, tick, tick, tick, + 

Tick, tick, tick, like mites in a quarrel⁠— + 

Faint iambics that the full breeze wakens⁠— + 

But the pine tree makes a symphony thereof. + 

Triolets, villanelles, rondels, rondeaus, + 

Ballades by the score with the same old thought: + 

The snows and the roses of yesterday are vanished; + 

And what is love but a rose that fades? + 

Life all around me here in the village: + 

Tragedy, comedy, valor and truth, + 

Courage, constancy, heroism, failure⁠— + 

All in the loom, and oh what patterns! + 

Woodlands, meadows, streams and rivers⁠— + 

Blind to all of it all my life long. + 

Triolets, villanelles, rondels, rondeaus, + 

Seeds in a dry pod, tick, tick, tick, + 

Tick, tick, tick, what little iambics, + 

While Homer and Whitman roared in the pines? + 