I'm Driving Back to Beijing with Yo-Yo Ma
This is a poem, for the wind
Not for you to read, dear reader.
Be gone - and allow only the breeze in.
Go on, hop it - I welcome the draft.
You are eccentric; I like that
Back door gales and wrecked heel tabs
Slammed hatches; a gateway to gusts
Yo-Yo Ma on the ocean; in shorts.
Trying out - Haydn and seeking
We are energy and so are you
You are old enough now dear wind
To host your own podcast.
I'll set up a mic and table for you
If I can be your first and only guest.
Five year olds in the sandbox,
Scaffolding into the next century.
Babble, taradiddle. Bunkum.
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