EXCERPTS

CHILDREN'S DECEMBER NIGHT SONG

James Adams


I can't remember
           little fleeces
but in the moon
           last midnight geeses

a-skying high in
           fowling pieces
fresh flown from turkeys
           (or is it Greeces?)

These eves hold
hands in timeless ceases
sleep laden eyelash
pearl pelisses.

I can't November
           little fleeces
for in the moon
           last midnight geeses

they seemed to wing
           blue feathered nieces
and looking up
           fall fell to peaces.