David Rowe (7 Nov 1969 / Worcester, Mass.)
You’d rather see the wind through her hair
Than through the flag of your native land.
Her head has made yardbirds of haberdashers &
Haberdashers of the yardbirds.
Her eyes (& this might take a couple tries)
Her eyes with their lids & lashes
Are flightless birds
All the more enamored of each other
For being forever separated by her