common pleasures

fields of grass and morning’s dew

sunrise gold, ascending blue

common pleasures hold a truth

I thought of this while I thought of you

where she wakes, I’d love to know

so I posed the question to lines of crows

perhaps they’d tell but instead they chose

to fly away, row by row

politely aggrieved, I wondered on

and asked the same to the bee, to the frog

and yet again to the ducks in the pond

but all were silent, all moved along

I’m a modest man with modest hopes

my common pleasures are simply told

she is a secret everywhere I go

and where she wakes I’ll never know