Poem being responded to:
AMONG THE NARCISSI
Spry, wry, and gray as these March sticks,
Percy bows, in his blue peajacket, among the narcissi.
He is recuperating from something on the lung.
Percy needed flight free,
I tried to nurse but he abandoned me,
Yet was he ever really caught?
My heart unworthy cage, all for naught,
I too am in free flight,
As apt to soar in day as night,
My nest awaits,
The fevered taste,
Time will weave sticks into something worthy,
I release all, from birth to sea to infinity