Heights Of Folly by Charles Simic
O crows circling over my head and cawing! I admit to being, at times, Suddenly, and without the slightest warning, Exceedingly happy.
On a morning otherwise sunless, Strolling arm in arm Past some gallows-shaped trees With my dear Helen, Who is also a strange bird,
With a feeling of being summoned Urgently, but by a most gracious invitation To breakfast on slices of watermelon In the company of naked gods and goddesses On a patch of last night's snow.
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