The chittering of June birds topping trees and shingles,

Starting at daylight quack, has proven -

Flight and chatter and quick leaf-like leaping and wrangles

That Evan is morning noise, it's Evan.

He's the springer, he jumps down stairs and is never broken.

Spring is in him all the seasons, even

In Winter, or more so October, when the leaves are shaken

His windy way down sidewalks, and given

Him to roll in, wade in, fall on, scuffle and walk in.

He talks to three times himself to liven

The seasons, to Eddies, derrick-men, truckers, and they talk

And on to him, in his voice, voices interwoven

At all levels, as a boy on the move over waxed flooring,

Under beds and through hedges, into tub-water,

Out of chairs and off laps, small busy boat and no mooring,

All shoes and eyes, nose, knees, and clatter.