Rounds

April come she will
When the floods subsided
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain;
We sacrificed a lamb, then cooked it in a pit.
May, she will stay,
The flames reflected in the bottoms of the leaves.
Resting in my arms again.
Dancers in the glen circled the maple
June, she'll change her tune,
Then leapt upon our altar.
In restless walks she'll prowl the night
We ate meat with bare hands.
July, she will fly
Our priests poured wine into the stamped earth,
And give no warning to her flight.
then affixed our prayer to the leg of a finch,
August, die she must,
Who flew west, who flew
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold;
To find another finch, another glen, anywhere
September I'll remember
But this place, where, fat with lamb,
A love once new has now grown old.
We could not sleep for the incessant rain.


"April, Come She Will", by Simon and Garfunkel.