Immanence

She sang of trees and glass
Her moments of understanding
Hollowed in the long hours of
Infidel chestnut breathings
Too many or not enough
This year the nightingale
Did not return sahib
Shall I bring the samovar
To the window ?
Please Ahmed and some
Of those otter chops
The second innings is
About to evolve and
We must leave nothing
To chants