Cycle Me Home Poem by A.Z. McCoy

When I rise and the sun
Pulls the cloth of night's curtain
The lyrics that surprise, a bird's
Breeze of wingbeats
Softly singe the skies
They never wished to change

The plants yearn to lift
From roots driven deep,
Drown in the sun with summer
Swelter spun round their
Petals, the spider's home
Given to us barren, save for dew

Cast with nothing but sun's glimmer
These homes fill our souls
Upstream, merging delta and river
Each day never old
The raven, with delicate motion
Takes the spider
To feed her nest