Levertov

yes at times
one may speak of
the noble rider on the
sea of words

but what about those
who quietly track
through this florid bog
with its sentimental
mists and the pull of its ancient muck

find the iris
in its sodden mound
and bring it as a
gift
for us, for nothing
special just for the wonder
of the day and
for all the things
that make us
sing.