Summer
If I could bottle the soft fragrance of the lilies,
If I could bottle the light setting fire to that maroon one and its pink neighbor,
Spinning the tall ivory blossoms into angels wings;
If I could bottle the same light as it blinds on the water,
Tips the tops of the firs with gold,
Runs a long finger down the trunks and dances across the green moss floor;
Along with the light, if I could bottle the merry chatter of nuthatches,
goldfinches, crossbills
and add to them the soft warm wind, ………