Time was I thought I knew
a thing or two but now
my head's a hollow gourd
an old man's noggin
full of nonsense
whispy thoughts
a jumbled heap of memories
not quite the quiet mind of clover
that Aiken roshi spoke about
rather a cloud blown
here and there
at the wind's mercy
while some days a silly song
will buzz for hours
in my ear
to no purpose I can discern
but just over a year ago
while walking in the graveyard
of a country town
I heard the evening grosbeaks
calling out alive! alive! alive!