In my backyard, in the morning, in the Spring (last year)

In my backyard I sit
in a swivel chair and hear
the birds of spring
chirping and trilling
in the morning and look
at the crimson maple from Japan
that we planted last year.

I think of other places 
other years 

Years gone past or yet to come
in which I have heard or will hear
the birds in spring for no reason
in particular, 


They always remind me
that life is fleeting


Flying by me with no great success
and my heart is dying of
love and cigarettes, and my children
growing up and up and soon
will go away, but the sun is shining

Shining into my yard on this spring day
and the grass is greening and
the flowers blooming
in beds and on the trees

In the mornings
my soul yearns to be free

Free of all the burdens that age
has brought to me but I
I have few regrets
though my life is pointless and
I'm burdened by more debts to
gods and men than I can shake a stick at,

So I just tilt my hat back and
look at that red maple

I listen to the birds while
the morning sun beats down and
takes away the chill of the night before
and I light another cigarette
and write about the things I see
near and far from me

While I sit in my backyard
in the morning in the spring.